


To Fix the World's Mistakes

by Mortythegobbo



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Backstory, Expanded Universe, Gen, Politics, Revolutionaries, Social Issues, Vigilantism, mild AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:44:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3437390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mortythegobbo/pseuds/Mortythegobbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story that details the rise of the Equalist Revolution. It shines a light on both its leaders and the common people who formed its rank and file. Features political intrigue, social unrest, gang warfare, espionage and vigilantism. All leading up to the anti-bending revolution Avatar Korra had to contend with. Although my intention is to expand on the movement, the story deviates from canon in certain key elements.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Equality Made Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins with Hiroshi Sato, who isn't quite the same guy we know from the canon show, and Amon - likewise. Original characters are introduced as well. In fact, as you read this, you'll come across a great many original characters.

Hiroshi Sato sat at his desk in his personal office, as sunlight faded outside his window. In front of him was a newspaper that he finally found time to read, after a busy day of reviewing and approving designs. On the front page was a large photograph of Councilman Tarrlok, a grin plastered across his face as usual. He had managed to pass another bill restricting the use of the recently-invented shock weapons.

“Such weaponry is too dangerous to be allowed into common use,” he had told the press. “The responsibility of the government is to keep them controlled.” Upon being asked why he also opposed the suggestion to arm the police in those weapons, he mentioned concerns over potential abuse. “Those weapons are too destructive to allow for wide access to them.”

Hiroshi sighed. As usual, the double standard of keeping modern weaponry out of people’s hands while allowing benders to run unchecked escaped the Council. He looked at the photo again. Behind Tarrlok stood the rest of the Council, smiling – all except Councilman Tenzin. He was scowling. He had been the only one to argue in favour of allowing at least a limited distribution of shock-gloves into the market, and perhaps issuing them to the police. Much as he was resented among the non-benders for being put on the Council simply for being the only airbender in the world other than his late father, he was also the only one to at least consider non-bender rights as an issue. His uncle’s influence, perhaps. Unfortunately, after Sokka left for the Southern Water Tribe to become chief in his father’s place, non-benders of the United Republic found themselves increasingly marginalized. First, chi-blocking was banned. Now, the development of new types of weapons that put more power in the hands of non-benders was being intentionally stifled. And yet, drunk benders tearing up roads were treated as a fact of life. 

Hiroshi rested his forehead on his hands as memories returned. Ten years ago. He and Yasuko, his wife, taking a new model of Satomobile for a drive just outside Republic City. They heard them before they saw them, but it was too late. A group of earthbenders, duelling or just making a ruckus. It was hard to tell which. An errant swing from one of them, and a section of the road collapsed. Right under their Satomobile. When Hiroshi woke up, he was in a hospital, with Yasuko nowhere in sight. It wasn’t long until he was informed she had been carted off to the morgue. The Equalists were born two years later. There were more people out there like Hiroshi – extorted by the bending triads, pushed around and victim of irresponsible benders. With the police dominated by benders, chi-blocking banned soon after Avatar Aang’s death and the suppression of weapon technology, many felt something had to be done. Relying on benders to protect them from other benders no longer seemed to be enough. Besides, it hadn’t worked out too well during the Hundred Years’ War, had it?

The movement sparked controversy. Not just from benders, but from non-benders as well. Many felt it wasn’t the way, that it was only going to make things worse. But something had to be done. They couldn’t keep hoping the benders will solve all their problems for them…

* * *

 

Suddenly, there came a knock at the door. Hiroshi had told his employees that he was not to be disturbed, so it could either his daughter, Asami, or the one employee of his who was also an Equalist. Hiroshi took great care to separate his job and his secret mission as much as he could. “Come in”, he simply said.

The door opened, letting in Petuwaq, a young man of Water Tribe descent who, as far as most people knew, was just a low-ranking secretary in Future Industries. Far fewer people knew that he was an Equalist, and a link between Hiroshi’s open and not so open activities.

“Mr. Sato?” he asked as he closed the door. “Something urgent came up. A message, from… Amon.”

Amon. The man in the mask. A mysterious stranger who had made his way into the ranks of Hiroshi’s vigilante group. A terrifyingly effective chi-blocker, by all accounts, whose first mission involved effortlessly outfighting three Agni Kai triad members. The other Equalists present there later told Hiroshi that he had weaved through their fire blasts before closing in and rendering them helpless with cunning, precise strikes. One of the triad members was never seen again, strangely enough. Was he made an example of for being beaten by non-benders, perhaps? The Triads weren't known for tolerating failure. There were always other benders willing to take their members' place, eager to use their power for a quick, easy profit. 

It didn’t appear as though Amon was satisfied with such victories, however. He clearly had ideas and plans. When he arrived in Republic City he was alone, but he spoke with other Equalists extensively. He organized meetings, during which he spoke about the fundamentally broken society they lived in… a society that elevated people based simply on the powers they were born with. That treated those without those powers as second-class citizens, even though it was their labour that it rested on. He spoke of how benders bullied and abused them with their power. Of how it would take more than just some vigilante action to rectify that wrong. There would need to be a great change. There would need to be a revolution. And they all had the means of bringing it about. They had the numbers. They had the rapidly developing technology. They had the art of chi-blocking that had surfaced after the great war.

Hiroshi didn’t put much stock in it. Amon was a rousing speaker, certainly. But a revolution? Where would that lead them? It would do little but tear society apart. Benders and non-benders lived together, intermingled, and nothing could change that. It was all they could do to keep things a little more equal. As long as he was the leader of the Equalists, by the virtue of supplying them with money and equipment, he would have none of it. For all his skill in combat and public speaking, Amon appeared to have arrived in the city with nothing but the clothes on his back and the strange white mask he wore. Nonetheless, he was gaining popularity in the movement. He had already amassed a certain following. Especially since, Hiroshi had to admit, his speeches brought many recruits into the fold. Many non-benders who had previously doubted the ideas behind the Equalist movement joined them after listening to or speaking with Amon. There would be trouble, eventually…

“Amon asked you to meet him tonight in the port area, sir. He said he has something to show you… something that will convince you to see his point of view.”

Something that will convince Hiroshi to see Amon’s point of view? What could that possibly be? Hiroshi hardly relished the prospect of meeting with the man, but refusing to do so would be seen as a weakness. Perhaps a confrontation would be necessary.

* * *

 

It was late, but the moon shone brightly. The lights of the city never went out, and neither did its background noise. Hiroshi stood in an empty yard, littered with rubbish. Behind him was Petuwaq and another of the Equalists loyal to him – a woman named Ming - both wearing shock-gloves. He didn’t seriously expect Amon to betray him, but he didn’t want to take any chances. And now, the masked man stood before him. Amon wasn’t alone, either. With him was a man Hiroshi had only seen and never spoke to. A tall, lanky individual with a thin moustache and strangely cold eyes. One of Amon’s closest allies within the movement… brought into the fold by the masked demagogue.

“Mr. Sato,” Amon said, in his deep, ominous voice. For all his doubts, Hiroshi could not deny the man’s charisma. “I realize that we’ve had our differences, but we do share a common goal, do we not? In the interest of future cooperation, I have brought you a gift. Specifically, Ga Min.”

Hiroshi’s blood froze. Ga Min. The woman who had carelessly killed his wife all those years ago. She left Republic City shortly after her release from prison, and put herself beyond the reach of the Equalists. She heard the rumours, perhaps. She knew what could happen to someone who had done what she had.

“How…” Hiroshi began, before Amon raised his hand. “You are a brilliant man, Mr. Sato, and your Equalists put the fear into benders. But your operations are focused on Republic City. I have travelled far and wide. I have ways of tracking people. It took my contacts quite a while to find her, but find her they did. And they lured her here. She’s a simple woman, at heart. The promise of money and protection made her forget what might await her here.”

Hiroshi grinned involuntarily. “This is amazing! I assume she’s currently in that noisy bar over there? If we could catch her alone while she leaves…”

Once again Amon interrupted him. “We could chi-block her, or electrocute her, and leave her in a public place for all to see. Yes. But she isn’t just any bender, is he? She took from you that which was the most precious to you in the world. And I have a way to make sure she never does such a thing again. All you have to do, Mr. Sato, is hide nearby and watch.”

Hiroshi nodded, uncertainly. This was Amon’s show, clearly enough. If Ga Min was indeed here, he could punish her even if Amon wouldn’t. He and his two subordinates were led by Amon’s right-hand man into a hiding place behind a seemingly random pile of wood. Amon was half-hidden in a shadow cast by the nearby street lamp and the window from the next building over. Soon enough, two people entered the yard. The sight of one of them churned Hiroshi’s stomach. Ga Min hadn’t changed that much since the way Yasuko died. She was older – a middle-aged woman, rather than a youth. But her face still bore the same look of mindlessness, carelessness and profound disinterest in anything beyond immediate gratification. She was inebriated, although not to the point of losing his faculties. Next to her, hanging off her arm, was a young, attractive man. He acted like he was drunk as well, and only interested in the woman he clung to, but Hiroshi was perceptive enough to know better. He was very deliberately leading her there. Into a trap. The trap was sprung when Amon stepped out of the shadow.

The man gasped and stepped back, cowering. A pretty good act, all things considered – except strangely quiet. Ga Min stared at the tall, menacing figure.

“Who the hell are you, creep?” she asked. “What the hell are you doing here, with this clown-mask on your face? Should’ve known better than to come back to this cesspit of a city.”

“You are a drunk, a fool and a murderer, Ga Min,” Amon said, his voice ringing through the night. “Of all the benders who do not deserve their power, you deserve it even less. Time for me to rectify the world’s mistake.”

He stepped forward, slowly… deliberately so. Confused, Ga Min did the only thing that occurred to her – she attacked. Stomping her foot, she launched a few cobbles upwards and sent them flying at Amon with a forceful punch. The Equalist nonchalantly twisted his body to the side, the rocks missing him by inches. Ga Min put her arms together, wrists touching, before punching forward with both of them, which caused the ground to erupt, straight into Amon’s face. This time Amon moved with eye-watering speed, although his movements were still conservative and reserved. He avoided the block of earth raising from the cobbles towards him and was in front of Ga Min in a blink. He grabbed her by the wrists and stepped behind her, while at the same kicking his legs from under her, forcing her to kneel. He then twisted one of the Ga Min’s arms to the point of pain, while placing the thumb of his other hand on the earthbender’s forehead. His other arm let go of Ga Min’s wrist and grabbed the back of her neck instead. At no point did he use any chi-blocking moves or strike pressure points.

Despite being unable to use his legs and one of her arms being in pain, Ga Min still managed to move, and lifted one of the bricks that lay crumbled under the nearby wall. As soon as it floated up in the air, however, it fell to the ground. At that point Amon removed his hand from Ga Min’s forehead and neck and stepped back, releasing her. The earthbender’s face bore a look of utter incomprehension, visible even in the faded light. She only wanted to get away at this point, the man who had accompanied her forgotten. But the strange – terrifying - man in the mask stood between her and the exit. She stomped her foot to bend more earth and create a distraction, maybe launch herself above her opponent.

Nothing happened.

Ga Min blinked. She stomped her foot again. And as before, nothing happened. Amon simply stood in front of her impassively as the earthbender flailed her arms and legs, desperately trying to bend, but powerless. The man who had lured Ga Min to this trap stayed behind Amon, grinning wickedly.

“Put her to sleep, Lieutenant,” Amon said.

His follower sprang out of cover and was behind the panicked bender in a flash, a strange stick hooked up to electrical wires in hand. The air crackled with electricity and Ga Min crumpled to the ground. Hiroshi, Petuwaq and Ming stood in their hiding place, gaping. None of them understood what had happened. They appeared to have witnessed a woman simply _lose_ her bending. She wasn’t chi-blocked. She simply lost her ability to bend. It was just like the stories said about Avatar Aang’s defeat of Firelord Ozai at the end of the Hundred Years’ War, and of the bloodbending crime lord Yakone not long after the founding of Republic City.

“That is one less woman who could do to someone else what she did to your wife,” Amon said, breaking the silence. “She will never kill anyone again because of alcohol and stupidity. This world we live in assigns great power to people by virtue of luck and parentage. Now, finally, we can fix it.”

“How did you do it?” Hiroshi asked, overcoming his shock.

“That is a story for another time,” Amon responded. “It is a long one. I have travelled far and wide and made many sacrifices to obtain this power. But you _will_ hear all of it. If you hear me _now_.”

Hiroshi was silent. The eloquent business tycoon, who had risen to wealth and influence from the very bottom, fighting off old money families who wanted to bring him down, had nothing to say. Finally, like so many others in his underground movement, he was caught in the spell of the mysterious man in the mask. He would listen.

“I tracked down the woman you could not find. I punished her for her transgressions in a way that will leave her powerless to hurt more innocent non-benders. I can do it to many more benders. They will learn to fear me. But I am just one man.”

Amon paused, as if allowing it to sink in. “You, meanwhile, built this entire movement through your hard-earned wealth, technology and connections, Mr. Sato. I respect that. When I arrived in Republic City after my search for enlightenment had been completed, I hardly expected to find an entire army of non-benders taking the fight to our oppressors. But this fight will never end. The benders will not relinquish their power. Their wealth that they’ve gathered over generations. Everywhere you turn, benders are either in the positions of power, or prop up whatever non-bending puppet they chose. Like the Earth Queen, who thinks she rules through her Dai Li thugs, that the Avatar never saw fit to properly disband. You can fight the Triads and individual benders, but you cannot scratch he fossilized power structure that has existed ever since bending manifested in humans. Non-benders need something to rally behind. And together, we can give them that. Not just the non-benders here, in your city. Non-benders in the entire world.”

Hiroshi nodded. Here, after witnessing the ultimate punishment of the woman who had taken Yasuko from him… Amon’s words struck home. However, he wouldn’t be Hiroshi Sato if he didn’t consider every problem from several directions with engineering precision.

“And the power to take away a person’s bending is a fine thing to rally behind,” he said. “Equality made reality. But you cannot take away every single bender’s power, can you? Unless you have a way of teaching your power to others…”

“Fear not, Mr. Sato… Hiroshi. I have a plan. But this is neither the time nor the place to talk about it. What you have seen tonight should be enough. Together, we can end the tyranny of bending. I am the solution, Hiroshi. And I need your movement to deliver it.”

He extended his hand. Hiroshi Sato shook it.

“What will we do with her?” Asked a raspy voice. Amon’s right-hand man spoke for the first time.

“Leave her,” the masked man said. “She’ll wake up soon enough. The news of someone who mysteriously lost her bending will spread. We won’t make a display of her, to make sure they stay rumours for now. We don’t know how much time we have until the Avatar arrives in Republic City.”

“The Avatar?” Hiroshi asked. “What do you know of them? I only know he, or she, must have been born in one of the Water Tribes.”

“Indeed,” Amon answered. “A girl, in the Southern Water Tribe. And already aware that she’s the Avatar, as well. It’s quite unusual. Before Avatar Aang abandoned the world for a hundred years, the Avatars would be told of their identity on their sixteenth birthday. Avatar Aang was informed of it when he was twelve, since the Fire Nation was waging its war of annihilation. Avatar Korra knew about it when she was three.”

“You do know a great deal,” Hiroshi observed.

“I do. And she will arrive in Republic City. Even if the news of our revolution do not reach her, Councilman Tenzin is the only person in the world who can teach her airbending. And when she comes, we will be waiting. As I told you, Hiroshi… I have a plan.”


	2. Between Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that mostly takes place in the past, explaining how we got to where we are now. Also laying groundwork for what will happen later and giving us background on the political situation of Republic City.

It was well past midnight when Hiroshi returned to the Sato mansion. He opened the door and entered quietly, so as not to wake up Asami. His daughter didn’t know anything about his involvement with the Equalist movement. It wasn’t easy to keep it from her – she was every bit as brilliant as her mother had been. But it was necessary, and Hiroshi did his best, every day, to obfuscate his vigilante actions. Everything he did, he did for Asami. He wanted to create a world where she wouldn’t be a second-class citizen due to her lack of bending – but he wanted to shield her from all that he had to do in order to bring it about. He wanted her to live a happy life as she saw fit. It did make him inwardly cringe when she introduced an earthbender as her first girlfriend… but he hid it from her nonetheless. After all, he told himself, it wasn’t any particular bender that was the problem. And he was building a world where his daughter wouldn’t be in danger just by being near benders.

Of course, the Satos were certainly better off than many benders, due to their wealth. Even so, however, he had to fight every step of the way to be allowed in the upper echelons of Republic City society. For all his money, and all the technology his company produced, he was a non-bender who came from other non-benders. The only bending relative he could recall was a firebender grandfather who died in the Hundred Years’ War. Yasuko could lay claim to some more, from what he remembered… but he remembered less with every year that passed since her departure. One way or the other, it made him an upstart. Not every person who looked down on him was a bender, of course. Many a rich non-bender thought ill of him for climbing the social ladder. But they all came from old money. Former bending aristocracy of the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom – especially the former, since the Hundred Years’ War had engendered a strong sense of firebender superiority in the Fire Nation society. Those families produced many benders, and accumulated wealth over the centuries because of their power. Times were different, now. The rapidly-developing industry and the political structure Avatar Aang and Firelord Zuko established when they turned the colonies into the United Republic of Nations allowed for many a low-born but industrial man and woman to rise to wealth and influence, bender and non-bender alike. Hiroshi Sato and his wife were simply the most prominent example of it. And yet, all their money could not save Yasuko from being killed by a bender’s carelessness.

But now, something could. Not Yasuko, of course. Nothing would bring her back, but Hiroshi had just witnessed Amon strip away the power that had allowed Ga Min to murder her thoughtlessly. She would never do so again. According to Amon, she would be forced to live the rest of her life as one of those she had bullied and threatened. Hiroshi resolved to track her down and observe her. He told himself it was because he wanted to make sure her loss of bending was indeed permanent – and it was true. But, deep down, a part of him also wanted to watch the person who had taken the love of his life away from him be humiliated. Hiroshi’s mind raced as he retired to his bedroom and prepared for sleep, after that eventful night. It was an amazing ability indeed. To brutally enforce equality on the world that had never known it. Take this power away from those who do not deserve it. What was wrong about only leaving the bending of those who were willing and able to use it for everyone’s good and prosperity? Who won’t use it to simply throw their weight around, make their own lives easier and steal livelihood from non-benders? Or worse yet, bully and threaten them like the triads did? Later on, the industrialist lay in his bed, trying to sleep, but could not. The brutal display he had seen brought to mind old memories. The first operations of the Equalist group. The failures and the victories. The exhilarating sensation of finally standing up to the benders. The feeling that they made the world more just and fair, if only by a small measure. It sent ripples through the society of Republic City, and the rest of United Republic. Hiroshi’s mind went years back…

* * *

 

The night was warm and humid. It was the rainy season, which made it a very inconvenient time to fight the Red Monsoon triad. But the Equalists couldn’t wait any longer. The triads had spent the years that had passed since the bloodbending crime lord Yakone was defeated by Avatar Aang rebuilding themselves, and the Red Monsoons were growing too strong. There were rumours that some among them were trying to learn bloodbending themselves. They were getting bolder, as well – two months before, some of their number used waterbending to sink a ship belonging to a trading company that had refused to pay them. Not everyone on the crew managed to make it out of the freezing, ice-filled water that the ship sunk into, either. The waterbenders did, of course. The non-bending crewmen had a harder time.

A group of Red Monsoons were now headed towards the shipping company’s office to renew their “offer”. They were ready to cause some more damage to make their point. Four of them, each a strong waterbender, and the humid weather would be convenient for them. It would not be an easy fight. The Equalist force laying in ambush numbered six people. Three of them were selected from among the first ranks of the chi-blocker cadre. They were led by a woman named Zia, who was said to have trained with the Kyoshi warriors themselves – the order of warrior women responsible for the popularization of the chi-blocking martial arts. According to rumours, she quit the group in disgust when they continued to be treated as less important than the Dai Li, despite the earthbending force’s treachery. According to some who knew her closely, she said she’d refused to play second fiddle to power-hungry benders, oaths of fealty to the Earth Kingdom be damned. She wound up travelling to the United Republic, teaching people self-defence. Her frustration with the survival of the Dai Li made her an easy recruit for the Equalists, and she became the group’s first and most prominent chi-blocking teacher.

The other two chi-blockers were among her brightest students. They and their teacher would lead the assault on the waterbenders, while the other three Equalists would support them using their weapons – one of them was using a sturdy staff, another had a set of bolas and throwing knives and the third one was using an experimental weapon based on recent inventions – a metal rod attached to a power generator strapped to his back. The developing technology had given rise to more sophisticated weapons for non-benders, which would hopefully provide an easier alternative to swordsmanship or martial arts. The air was thick and humid with the promise of rain, and the streets were slick with the earlier downpour. The Equalists heard the roar of the Red Monsoons’ satomobile. There weren’t many of them in this part of the city at this time of night. The vehicle came to a halt in an overgrown, abandoned yard, and the waterbenders proceeded to leave. At that point, the Equalists struck. They had predicted the gangers might stop there, and the prediction turned out to be correct. This allowed them to attack immediately, while the benders were still getting out of their car. Zia rushed towards the first Red Monsoon to emerge from the car. Four precise jabs sent pain through his arms and deprived him of bending. However, that was the end of the Equalists’ element of surprise. The chi-blocked waterbender staggered back into the car, but the others were ready. Zia had to dodge a jet of water from another Red Monsoon, and while she did that, the triad member turned a puddle on the ground into ice, sending her sprawling. The other two gangers who could still use their bending turned towards the other incoming Equalists. Zia’s students had to evade a shower of ice shards formed from the moisture on the ground and the satomobile. They didn’t manage to dodge them all, and one of them was bleeding heavily.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” one of the Red Monsoons cried, laughing. “Don’t you yokels know chi-blocking is illegal? That makes you criminals just like us, only without bending to show for it. Time to put you in your place!”

The battle wasn’t looking too good for the Equalists, but then the others joined the fray, having held back until now – as planned. The Red Monsoon menacing Zia was set upon by the staff-wielding Equalist, driving him back long enough for the chi-blocker to get up and recover. By the time she did, however, the staff-wielder’s knee was pierced by a long icicle, and she fell to the ground, screaming. Zia quickly repaid the favour by chi-blocking the waterbender and sending him to the ground with a powerful kick that also caused him to lose at least two teeth. Meanwhile, the remaining two triad members found themselves fighting off four opponents at once. For a while, they kept them at bay, sending thin jets of water their way in wide arcs, turning their tips into ice. Then, however, a carefully-placed, lucky knife pierced the right wrist of one of them, cutting his efforts short. The other one responded by pinning the knife-thrower to the nearest wall with a wave of water turned into ice, but it provided the Equalist wielding an electrified rod an opening. The waterbender felt a two-pronged metal bar against her ribs, and then a surge of electricity went through her body, knocking her out instantly.

The battle was over at that point. The knifed triad member was quickly chi-blocked. All of them were tied up with ropes and stuffed into their car, which had its engine promptly sabotaged. Someone would find them there eventually. A message would be sent. There were people out there ready to do what the police could not. Granted, three of the Equalists suffered serious injuries… but it was a victory. Hiroshi received the report the same night, and the next day the city was abuzz with rumours. Four Red Monsoons, found tied up and packed into their own car. Three of them bore the marks of being chi-blocked, although the effect had worn off a long time before they were found. The electricity used by one of the Equalists proved to be more powerful than it had been anticipated, and the burns would stay with the Red Monsoon for a while – perhaps permanently. Who could have done that? Controversy arose quickly. Many were glad that the triad had been knocked down a peg. Others feared that the mysterious attackers would target less deserving targets next, or that their actions would spark a gang war. Others still dismissed the vanquishers of the Red Monsoons as simply another criminal gang, just one that happened not to use bending. The Council and other city authorities condemned the attack.

* * *

 

Many years later, Hiroshi woke up and descended the stairs from his bedroom to the kitchen, yawning. Asami was already there, eating breakfast. He smiled at her.

“Good morning, sweetie,” he said.

“Hi dad. It looks like you didn’t get enough sleep,” his daughter answered, tilting her head.

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” Hiroshi waved his hand. His work kept him up at night frequently enough that Asami had no reason to suspect anything else. “Are you all ready for your self-defence class today?”

“I am, but I’m not sure if there’ll be any classes today,” Asami said uncertainly. Hiroshi merely raised his eyebrow, so she continued. “Master Hikari is having some trouble. He might come under police investigation over suspicion of teaching chi-blocking. He said councilman Tarrlok suspects those Equalist vigilantes might have support from the non-bending martial arts community.”

Hiroshi’s teacup froze between the table and his mouth. He knew it was ridiculous. He had been extremely careful to make sure Asami took her lessons from a teacher who had no ties whatsoever to the group. But he couldn’t tell her that, could he.

“That’s nonsense,” he said. “I’m sure he has nothing to do with that group. I wouldn’t hire a trainer with such disreputable connections for you.” That was technically true, at the very least.

“I know.” Asami sighed. “I don’t get it. Why is Tarrlok so afraid of non-benders? It’s like he’s worried we’ll start attacking benders if we’re allowed.”

“I don’t know, dear,” Hiroshi said, tiredly. Truth to be told, he really did not. He had always assumed Tarrlok was just a part of the establishment – a bender who enjoyed power and wasn’t interested in sharing it. But for the past year or so, his treatment of non-benders had bordered on active malice. It wasn’t the attitude of a man who wants to keep the underprivileged majority stay this way; it was as though… Asami was right. As though Tarrlok really did fear non-benders. But why would he?

“I hope the Avatar arrives in the city soon,” Asami suddenly said. “They’d be about my age by now, wouldn’t they? Avatar Aang defeated Firelord Ozai when he was younger than that. I’m sure the new Avatar will set the Council straight.”

“Let’s hope so. I think I’ve done all I possibly could, and I don’t have much to show for it,” Hiroshi responded, shaking his head. He had tried to lobby for non-bender representation, which was his way of bringing the Equalists’ secret fight into the open. But the results were unimpressive. There was just so much resistance… had there ever been a point? All he ever heard was “benders are simply more powerful, nothing to be done about it”. He had his doubts the Avatar would see it any differently. At the end of the day, the Avatar wasn't just a bender, but _the_ bender. The master of all the elements. 

“Don’t say that, dad. All non-benders in the city felt better knowing you were trying to make a difference.” His daughter’s voice snapped him out of his increasingly bitter thoughts.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Hiroshi smiled. “If Master Hikari did get into trouble because of Councilman Tarrlok’s conviction we’re all forming a chi-blocking army to overthrow him, I’ll try to get him out of it.”

“You’re the best, dad. Are you sure you can’t go to the pro-bending match tonight?” Hiroshi shook his head.

“You know I don’t really like this sport, Asami. Watching benders throw rocks, fire and water at each other isn’t really my idea of a good time.” In truth, it irritated him to see Asami idolize bending athletes. Couldn’t she interest herself in non-bending sports? But he’d never had the heart to really argue with her about it.

Asami chuckled and left the kitchen, leaving her father alone with his thoughts. Had everything he did as an official lobbyist for non-bender rights and the man behind the Equalists been for nothing? It all seemed so… irrelevant compared to simply stripping a bender of their power. Perhaps that’s the only thing they would listen to. Hiroshi glanced at the clock above the table. It would be a busy day for him, since he was meeting with a new supplier. But he’d have to make the time to meet with Amon again, and speak with him in detail. The masked man promised him answers, and Hiroshi felt he badly needed them.


	3. Two Sides of the Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first look into Tarrlok and Noatak's life. Deviations from canon become more acute here, both in the past and the present. It's another groundwork-laying chapter; my primary purpose was to introduce the two sides of the conflict in earnest.

Years before, a young man ran into a building in the docks district of Republic City. A broad-shouldered Water Tribe youth, with dark skin and hair, tied back into a ponytail. His eyes were bright with intelligence and excitement. He opened the door forcefully, revealing a drab, unassuming living room. It was clearly not designed with comfort in mind. It was not meant to attract attention. The room’s only occupant was another Water Tribe boy – younger than the one who just entered, but their family resemblance was very clear.

“Noatak? What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t-”

“I was on our father’s trial, Tarrlok,” the older boy interrupted. “I saw it all. His bending is gone.”

The only answer was stunned silence, at first. Then, Tarrlok spoke, disdainfully.

“Do you expect me to believe that? How is it gone? Is it like that tall tale about Avatar Aang taking Firelord Ozai’s bending away?”

Noatak laughed. “Yes, exactly! They finally proved father is a bloodbender! I bet they didn’t expect him to bloodbend in broad daylight, though. Avatar Aang had to enter his Avatar State and strip him of his bending. He’s just a non-bender now, like me. I told you the Avatar could really take bending away.”

“Go jump in a lake, Noatak,” his brother responded, with petulant irritation. “Your jealousy is getting worse. Can you go back to pretending you don’t know us?”

“Oh, I will.” Noatak laughed again. “You’ll see me again, brother. But it won’t happen for a long time.” He turned around and left the building, leaving his brother in silence.

Tarrlok sat in the empty room, waiting for his parents to return with news. He had not expected to meet his brother again, especially not like this. Soon enough, someone did return – but it was only his mother. A sharp-featured woman with a dark Water Tribe complexion, and black hair with gray streaks, braided in loops around her ears.

“Tarrlok. Pack up. We’re leaving,” she said curtly.

“What-“ he began, but his mother cut him off.

“Your father had his bending taken away and given the life sentence. It won’t be long before they come for us as well. He did his best to conceal his family, but his organization is falling to pieces as we speak.”

The young waterbender blinked. “So it’s true! Noatak was just here, saying father had had his bending taken! But I thought he was lying.”

“Noatak? Yes, he was there during the trial, but wouldn’t talk to me. He left afterwards. Well, no matter. He made it clear he wants nothing to do with us. Besides, he’s not a bloodbender, like us. We need to leave, quickly.” The normally aloof and composed woman was clearly distraught and rushed.

“But how-“ “It doesn’t matter. Our life here is over.”

* * *

 

Many years later, two figures stood in that very same room. One of them was a tall, broad-shouldered man whose face was obscured by a hood and a mask. The other one, lean and wiry, wore a dark green uniform. It was obvious no one had been there in a long time. A thick layer of dust covered every surface. Cobwebs filled the air.

“I had someone ask around like you requested,” the Lieutenant said. “This building belongs to someone. But it seems the real owner is hidden behind a maze of paperwork and dummy companies.”

“I know who it is,” Amon responded. “Councilman Tarrlok really has no wish for this particular piece of his past to resurface.”

“Why would the most powerful member of the Council care about this place? He comes from the Southern Water Tribe.”

“Oh, he does. But he grew up here, in Republic City.”

The Lieutenant was visibly surprised. “He claims he was born and raised there.”

“So he does. I know many things about him he would not wish to see revealed. You see, Lieutenant… this is where he lived as a boy.”

“Someday you’ll have to tell us how you know those things,” the Lieutenant said, narrowing his eyes. “I know what you’ve done and what you can still do. But all those secrets...”

“Knowledge leaks, Lieutenant. Every person that knows something increases the chance of someone else finding it out twofold. So does every telling of a secret. When I reveal how I learned what I know, and how I learned what I can do, I need to be certain I have everyone who needs to know this in one place at the same time. You’ll be there. So will Hiroshi Sato, I hope. I planted a seed in him, and it’s growing. Years of fighting a guerilla war he couldn’t win, and bashing his head against the brick wall of bender superiority left behind a very fertile ground. In due time, he’ll agree to lend his resources to me. With his organization behind me, I will stir the non-benders of the city into a revolution. I hope the Avatar isn’t kept away from here for too long.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to start our revolution while the Avatar is away?” the Lieutenant asked. “I can’t say I look forward to facing the master of all four elements.”

“Our struggle with the Avatar will not be a physical one,” Amon answered. “Defeating her in combat and taking her bending would not be enough, even if we could do it. We need to show the world that the Avatar is nothing more than a glorified thug propping up a society that puts her on a pedestal. Avatar Aang proved that he was unwilling to actually enforce balance and justice. After receiving the power to take away people’s bending, he used it twice. Twice. Against Firelord Ozai and Yakone. Is that what it takes for the Avatar to step in and take drastic measures? How much of a body count does a bender need to rack up? To have such a unique power and be unwilling to use it… Avatar Aang made himself, and all his future incarnations, obsolete by his own choice.”

* * *

 

Councilman Tarrlok sat in his office, preparing himself for an interview with a journalist from the largest Republic City newspaper, when his door opened and an assistant shuffled in.

“Councilman. I apologize, but you told me to inform you if someone was interested in that… house in the dockside district. Someone was.”

Tarrlok’s face darkened. An old fear he had managed to bury just had to resurface now, with non-benders betting more and more restless. At least it was unlikely to be connected. Unless…

“Do you know who it was?”

“No, Councilman. It seems they were… discreet.”

Of course. Discreet enough to remain anonymous, but not discreet enough to leave no tracks at all. Someone was clearly trying to unnerve him. He shook his head. Two could play this game.

“Very well. You may go.”

Once the assistant shuffled out, Tarrlok regained his composure. It would take more than someone digging around the ashes of his childhood to throw him off-balance. When the journalist entered, he was wearing his customary dazzling smile and radiated the self-confidence of someone who simply wishes to serve the United Republic as best he can. The journalist was a fairly young woman, short and portly.

“Miss Nari! I’m glad to see you, as always,” he told the reporter.

“Always a pleasure, Councilman,” the journalist answered as she took her seat and produced a notebook. “It seems you just can’t catch a break recently. With the social tensions flaring in the city, your opinion is sought more than any other.”

“I can’t see why,” Tarrlok responded. “I am simply a public servant, like my fellow Council Members, or the other city officials.”

“And yet, you’re at the forefront of the legislatic measures that have the people of the city in a stir,” Nari retorted. “Holding fast onto the ban on chi-blocking and restricting weapons technology. Many say that you’re intentionally discriminating against non-benders.”

“Nothing could be further from the truth,” Tarrlok responded firmly. “The cries of supposed discrimination only convince me further that my course of action is justified. I’m defending the order on which our society is built.”

“But there are many who say that non-benders deserve the means to protect themselves from benders.”

“Is it about protection, or means of attack?” Tarrlok asked rhetorically. “Chi-blocking has no purpose other than countering bending. It renders benders unable to use the power they’ve had since birth. It is invasive and insidious. It needs to be restricted on the same basis as bloodbending.”

“It does provide non-benders with a means of standing up to benders, however,” Nari pointed out. “It can even out the playing field.”

“I refuse to buy into the arms race rhetoric proposed by those… Equalist vigilantes, and their sympathizers in the populace,” the Councilman responded dismissively. “There is no conflict between benders and non-benders in our society. The art of bending is as ancient as humanity, and it has shaped civilization since its dawn. Those who are gifted with bending have a responsibility to uphold the tradition of their element and use it for the common purpose. Reducing the issue to that of brute force is a disrespect to it all.”

“Don’t those who use bending to extort and abuse their fellow citizens disrespect it even more?”

“They certainly pervert the noble traditions of bending,” Tarrlok said, smoothly. “And it’s the duty of the government and law enforcement to bring them to justice. Chief Beifong’s relentless efforts towards that end cannot go unnoticed or unappreciated. But it cannot be left in the hands of vigilantes. Where will they turn next, should they manage to defeat the triads?”

“Do you assume they will turn against the benders who aren’t criminals, next?” Nari asked.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Tarrlok shot back with another rhetorical question. “People who have constructed a narrative about a… fundamental oppression of non-benders by benders will not stop at the targets who actually break the law and harm others.”

“So you do not think there’s an inherent bending privilege?” The journalist pressed.

“Of course not. It’s not anyone’s fault that they have talents others do not. And one of the wealthiest people in the city is a non-bender, is he not? Hiroshi Sato. Who, despite that, is so very vocal about non-bender rights being suppressed.” Tarrlok smiled patronizingly.

“His manufacture of shock weapons was interrupted by the new ban, however,” the reporter pointed out.

“As I said back then, Miss Nari, those weapons are too dangerous. Anyone could pick up a shock-glove and harm innocent people. And before you say it, it does not compare to bending. The bending styles are ancient arts passed down since the dawn of humanity. Those weapons are crude, destructive tools.” This time, the contempt in his voice was palpable.

“They might help alleviate the concerns that the police force is bender-dominated, however. They would allow non-bending officers to more easily apprehend criminals, including benders.”

“And here we go back to the supposed conflict between benders and non-benders. Is it really worth it to put everything in such… us against them terms? The benders’ powers make them more suited for police work. Non-benders should be glad they have them as protection, rather than try to arm themselves in destructive technology.”

“You keep saying there is no conflict between benders and non-benders. But the Republic City Council is made up of benders. There hasn’t been a non-bending member of the Council ever since Councilman Tenzin took the Air Nomad seat. There are concerns about lack of representation.”

“The Council represents the four nations that contributed to the creation of the United Republic, not benders or non-benders. Does our bending help us govern? I do not think so. We were chosen for our merits. Councilman Tenzin is Avatar Aang’s son, and the only living adult airbender. What other choice is there to represent the Air Nomads?”

“The Air Nomads consist of four airbenders and their non-bending acolytes,” the reporter retorted. “There are those who say the working class of the city deserves more representation than a remnant of a dead culture, living in luxury on their own island and attended by servants.”

“Such a short-sighted sentiment,” Tarrlok responded with a sigh. “Our world relies on the balance between the four elements. The United Republic is an oasis of peace and freedom, built from the wounds of the great war. Built by Avatar Aang, an Air Nomad by birth. This alone means that what remains of his nation deserved an equal part in the country he created.”

The interview went on for a while more, concerning other current issues of the city. Tarrlok found himself relaxed by it. This is what he was meant to do. Spinning words, playing power games – here, he was finally in control. After years of weaving through the maze of Republic City politics, he finally achieved a position where he was dealing the cards. It was all he could ever want. Someone digging into the house of his childhood in Republic City… it threatened to dig up the times when he had none of that. Of a time when his bending was all he had to prove his worth. And he wouldn’t allow that. Nor would he allow some upstart non-benders to question the order of the world he had invested himself in.


	4. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to pick up a little. We meet the story's most prominent original character. We'll be seeing more of her in the future. I also delve into the subject of shock-weapons for non-benders and someone takes his mask off.

Hiroshi couldn’t make the time to meet Amon the day after being shown the masked man’s unique power. The next day, he sat in his office and fumed, reading the newspaper. By any spirit that might happen to care… Tarrlok got more odious with each passing day. Spinning tirades about how bender dominance was the natural order of the world… in fact, how it didn’t exist at all. Everything was as it should be, simple as that.

He threw the newspaper down on his desk. It was as if Tarrlok had chosen to escalate his insufferable elitism and entitlement just in time to tip the balance of Hiroshi’s indecision. Yes, if the Republic City Council couldn’t be made to see that they continued to prop up a grossly unequal system, then maybe Amon’s solution – in fact, the solution that _was_ Amon, as he kept putting it – was the only one the non-benders had left. Hiroshi couldn’t help but picture Councilman Tarrlok in Ga Min’s place, flailing in panic after his bending had been taken away. It was a pleasant thought to have.

But imagining things would accomplish nothing. With a scowl, Hiroshi set about altering his schedule to allow for a few meetings with his Equalists, and with Amon. Who, it seemed, was as busy as Hiroshi himself. According to other Equalists, the revolutionary spent his days recruiting and training. He delivered speeches to the Equalists, and spoke with non-benders outside the movement on secret rallies and meetings. And membership swelled. Amon’s rhetoric brought many non-benders into the ranks, seeking training and weapons against benders. Amon also provided the former, sharing his chi-blocking techniques with others. He was an amazing fighter, perhaps a match for Zia – or more than a match for her. Rumours abounded of how he had travelled the world, fighting benders and seeking enlightenment. Hiroshi wasn’t interested in rumours, however. He was going to hear Amon’s story from the man himself, as he had been promised.

* * *

 

The Equalist safehouse that was currently in rotation was bustling. The vigilante group had many places strewn about the city that they used for storage, training and meetings. Less than a half of them was in use at any given time, with the Equalists periodically emptying them and moving to another one. It had played a great part of keeping the movement secret. The one Hiroshi had just entered was a former pro-bending gym that had fallen out of use. Ironic that the anti-bending vigilantes would use a facility formerly dedicated to a sport that put benders on a pedestal.

When Hiroshi entered the building through a back-door, he saw a group of people practicing chi-blocking on special mannequins, which had the pressure points of a human body marked on them. They were still beginners, and so were simply remembering the position of the pressure points on immobile training dummies. The real challenge was hitting the pressure points of a mobile, bending enemy. It wasn’t an early art to learn. Which was why many Equalists preferred the modern weapons Future Industries secretly manufactured. Above them, on a platform, stood Zia.

The former Kyoshi Warrior had certainly changed since that first excursion of the Equalists. She has aged, but it only toughened her up. She was a short, broad-shouldered woman with cropped hair and dark skin. On the left side of her face, running down her neck and onto her shoulder, was a nasty electrocution scar – a memory of when she faced down Lightning Bolt Zolt himself. It was a close fight, far closer than the crime boss liked. But in the end, lightning was ever so difficult for a non-bender to defend against.

“Mister Hiroshi!” She cried when she saw him. After some years, she finally stopped referring to him as “Mister Sato”. “I didn’t know you’d be coming today.”

“Well, the current political situation seems to be escalating,” Hiroshi responded, climbing the stairs to her vantage point. “I thought I’d take some time to inspect the troops, as it were.”

Zia’s face darkened.

“I know, I’ve read the papers too. I swear, that Tarrlok! It’s like he’s intentionally trying to goad us. He can’t possibly believe all that drivel he tells the press.”

“Who knows what that man thinks,” Hiroshi said with a sigh. “The other Councillors are just opportunists. Tenzin is in over his head, and always has been… the only reason he got this position was because he’s Avatar Aang’s son, and the only adult airbender in the world. But Tarrlok is a real problem. He tells the benders of this city what they want to hear, and keeps non-benders powerless by dressing it up as a concern for tradition.”

Zia shook her head.

“It’s always the same, isn’t it. They say we’re as valuable as benders, but when push comes to shove, they always end up more important. It was like that with the Dai Li, back in Ba Sing Se. And it’s like that here.” She looked up at Hiroshi. “Did you know the Kyoshi warriors retired back to their island? It was that, or keep playing assistant to the Dai Li under that spoiled brat of a queen.”

“It’s always been like this,” Hiroshi observed morosely. “We’ve always had to try harder just to get on equal footing with the benders. The only thing that has changed in the last half a century is that we’ve finally started to take issue with how the world revolves around them, and decided to do something about it.”

“Yeah!” Zia grinned. “We did! And we are doing something about it! Is it true what they say about Amon? That he took someone’s bending away, permanently?”

Hiroshi was surprised, both by her enthusiasm – although Zia had always been rather hot-headed – and her knowledge of Amon’s ability.

“It is true. I see news has spread.”

“Well, not to everyone. But I talk to a lot of the troops,” Zia said. “Many of them brought to us by Amon. He’s said to be an amazing chi-blocker. I’d love to test myself against him someday. And you wouldn’t believe the rumours that are circulating about where he came from and why he wears that mask.”

“I rather think I would,” Hiroshi remarked with some amusement. “I do intend to hear the real story from Amon himself, of course. He has big plans, and he promised to be honest with me. It’s part of the reason why I’m here now. I need to contact him.”

“That’s fortuitous,” said a voice behind them. “It’s exactly why I’m here now.”

Hiroshi and Zia turned around. Amon’s lieutenant stood in front of them, having just climbed up the stairs.

“Oh. Well, Zia, this is…” Hiroshi paused. “I’m sorry, I never did learn your name. Everyone always refers to you as… Lieutenant.”

“It’s quite on purpose,” the man responded. “It’s also why I’m rarely seen without my mask on. The fewer people know my name, the better. Same goes for my face. We’re all a conspiracy here, but my conspiracy needs to go a little deeper.”

“And why is that?” Hiroshi asked, not bothering to make sure it was fine to ask this question. He was still the leader of the Equalists.

The Lieutenant looked between Hiroshi and Zia, who was observing him with curiosity.

“What I say here must be kept between us, of course,” he said. “I’m a soldier. A low-ranking officer in the United Forces. I call myself Lieutenant not just because I’m Amon’s right-hand man, but because it’s the rank I should have got by now if they hadn’t kept promoting benders over me.” The Lieutenant’s normally impassive and rational tone now had an edge of deep resentment to it. Hiroshi and Zia nodded sympathetically.

“It’s no secret that the United Forces favour benders. They do have their power, but the ability to bend does not equal tactical thinking and leadership,” Zia said, shaking her head. “At least the old Fire Nation was honest about it.”

“I have a history of exemplary service, and could outfight half of the benders in my regiment,” the Lieutenant went on. “More, if they gave us some modern weapons. But tell that to the brass. The only non-bending general is that idiot Bumi. And he only got the job because he’s Avatar Aang’s son. So the higher-ups cover up the fact that he’s a fool with a lot of dumb luck that should never have made it past being a floor-sweeper. Never mind that everyone knows how embarrassed Aang was because his firstborn was a non-bender.”

“They say his methods are unorthodox, but they work,” Hiroshi pointed out. He wasn’t sure how much he agreed with the Lieutenant’s assessment of General Bumi. Or that Avatar Aang was ashamed of having a non-bender son. Then again, it was known he’d always groomed Tenzin to be his successor…

“Which is just how they explain it when his bumbling around doesn’t actually manage to ruin things,” the Lieutenant answered dismissively. “Frankly, he’s making the rest of us look bad. If _he_ is the most prominent example of a non-bending career military, it’s no surprise we’re all dismissed as useless. Maybe that’s why they keep him upstairs, not just because of his father. He can serve as proof that we’re unfit for command and responsibility.”

Hiroshi didn’t respond at first. He had never thought about it this way, but his involvement with the military had always been peripheral – limited to trying to pitch more advanced weaponry. Which was turned down by the politicians, not the soldiers.

“I do remember you using a weapon I found familiar,” he said instead. “A stick, hooked up to an electrical current. I designed something along those lines, but could never make it work properly. It always ended up unwieldy.”

“Oh, yes,” Zia said. “I’ve had people using them accompany my chi-blockers. They’re easy to use and can deliver a punch, but hitting a bender with them is the issue. And they’re easily disabled. Shock-gloves are much more practical.”

The Lieutenant nodded.

“You’re brilliant when it comes to technology, Mr. Sato, but you’re not a soldier and the only real test for a weapon is on the battlefield. After Amon recruited me, I worked with another soldier who had joined at the same time, and we figured out how to make it smoother. It’s based on a weapon named Kali stick… used in martial arts on an island just on the edge of United Republic. Combine it with the shock-weapon technology and suddenly you can paralyze someone in seconds. And it’s harder to counter than chi-blocking.”

Hiroshi rubbed his chin. The conversation had entered a territory he felt much more confident in than the recent politics.

“Very interesting. We’ve never been able to recruit anyone from the army… we’ve never really tried. It was considered too risky. I see Amon has managed that. I would very much like to examine that weapon. So far, my biggest success in this field have been the shock-gloves.”

“They’re fine weapons,” the Lieutenant said. “They’re easy to use, and that’s important. What we need is something we can arm a large number of people in. Chi-blocking allows a non-bender to face down benders on something of an equal footing, but not everyone can learn it. Shock-sticks like mine, even upgraded to be practical, also require training. The Equalists have been an elite group, so far. The shock-gloves and other weapons we devise can allow us to field an army.”

“He’s right,” Zia interjected. “It takes a long time to turn someone into a chi-blocker. Getting close enough to a bender to chi-block them is a very… intense effort. A lot of people simply can’t manage that. But if we gave them proper weapons…”

Hiroshi, however, focused on something else in the Lieutenant’s words.

“An army?” he asked. “Is that what Amon is planning?”

“We’re rallying the downtrodden of this city, aren’t we?” The Lieutenant shrugged. “Numbers are a weapon. If we can arm them in tools both more powerful and easier to use than what non-benders have had to work with in the past… benders will have a reason to fear, won’t they?”

Hiroshi couldn’t deny that. Bringing technology to the masses had always been his goal. He managed it with Satomobiles. But his efforts to do the same with weapons technology had encountered a stone wall. Benders were content to partake in technology bending couldn’t replace, but giving non-benders a taste of the power they had? No, that was clearly unacceptable. Still, an army… that was something else. That word had weight.

“I believe I need to speak with Amon in person,” he simply said. “He clearly has plans for this group that I will need to form an opinion about.”

The Lieutenant nodded again.

“Yes. He told me to deliver his invitation. He will speak with you in a house under this address tomorrow evening.” He slipped a note into Hiroshi’s hand. “It is imperative that you do not bring anyone.”

Hiroshi and Zia both frowned. Reading their expressions, the Lieutenant shrugged.

“If you do bring someone else, they cannot hear what he has to tell you. How you arrange that is up to you. He does urge you to be cautious, of course.”

“Caution is what brought me this far,” Hiroshi said. “Very well. I will be there. Zia will be there as well. As a precaution if nothing else.”

Zia grinned.

“I’ve been dying to meet Amon, anyway. I’d love to know if he’s as good a chi-blocker as they say.”

The Lieutenant shrugged again.

“It’s your choice. One way or the other, we will see you there tomorrow at 6 PM.”

* * *

 

The next morning, Petuwaq entered Hiroshi’s office, discreetly.

“Mr. Sato,” he said. “I… received word from some of the people you had observe Ga Min. They tell me she’s dead. She was drunk and picked a fight with some small-time Agni Kai enforcers. The fight got out of hand and they killed her. Apparently she was too drunk to remember she couldn’t bend anymore.”

Hiroshi sat back in his chair, feeling a coldness in his stomach. Dead. That was not what he had wanted. He wanted to punish her, but not dead. According to the account, her death was her own doing, but… Amon had taken her bending. If he hadn’t, she would still be alive.

“Thank you. You may go,” he simply said.

Once Petuwaq was gone, Hiroshi took a deep breath. That evening, he would speak with Amon, and everything would hopefully become clear. He would know what the masked man planned. He just had to get through the day. And he had learned to hide his inner feelings as he went about his business.

Around five, he left his workshop to prepare for his meeting with Amon. On his way out, he met Asami.

“Hello, sweetie,” he said. “I’m afraid I must leave… an unexpected meeting come up. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“What’s wrong, dad?” his daughter simply asked. Hiroshi blinked.

“Wrong?”

“You’re tense. And it’s as if your thoughts are elsewhere.” Asami’s expression was concerned. “What’s bothering you?”

Hiroshi sighed and ran his hand through his haid.

“I’m… it’s Tarrlok,” he said, settling on something that was at least partly true. “I’m tired. Tired of living in a city that is so different and yet the same than the old Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom. We will always be just glorified butlers for benders.”

“Oh, don’t say that, dad,” Asami responded, firmly. “Things are changing. They’re getting better. Tarrlok and the rest of the Council won’t have their way forever. Didn’t you believe it too?”

“I do,” Hiroshi said, although at that point, he no longer did. “But while you might live to see it, I’m not sure if I will,” he added, chuckling. Then he stepped up to hug his child.

“Don’t change, Asami. Your idealism warms this old man’s heart.”

* * *

 

The building Amon waited in turned out to be located in a very bad part of town. Hiroshi was glad he had brought Zia along. She would make short work of anyone who decided on a little mugging. The Lieutenant waited at the door. He had no weapons with him, and he wore an inconspicuous grey coat. 

“Good, you’re here. Amon is waiting inside. Mr. Hiroshi, please follow me. You’ll have to wait downstairs, Zia. Keep an eye out for trouble. What Amon will says is for mine and Mr. Sato’s ears only.”

If Zia had reservations about being excluded, she kept them to herself.

“So long as I get to talk to Amon afterwards,” she simply said.

“That can be arranged. And now…” the Lieutenant opened the door.

Hiroshi followed him up creaky, dust-covered stairs. On top of them was a short, cramped corridor lined with two pairs of doors, with another one at the end of it. The two men walked through it, and saw Amon sitting down on a mat in an empty, featureless and all-around barren room. He looked up at them, as if awakening from meditation. His mask was, of course, featureless.

“Mr. Sato. Lieutenant. Good. Now I can finally satisfy your curiosity. Please, take a seat.”

Hiroshi sat down on another mat, not entirely comfortable. He wasn’t getting any younger. But it seems Amon wanted to introduce an ascetic atmosphere to the meeting.

“Let us start with something I will do only once,” Amon said, reaching up. Hiroshi and the Lieutenant actually held their breaths as he threw back his hood and took off his mask.

Underneath it was a dark-skinned and dark haired middle-aged man, clearly of Water Tribe heritage. His face was marked with scars – a burn scar here, a cut there, and a nose that had clearly been broken and didn’t grow back correctly.

“Here, for a moment, I am not Amon. Not entirely. The name I was born with and used for a time is Noatak. And the story that led me to discarding it began… here.”


	5. Blood Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter delves very firmly into the past; we see the story of a certain bloodbending family. Of course, an important member of the family is not a bender at all, but another one gets a name and a role. Bloodbending in general is discussed in more detail. And we see a certain act have unintended consequences.

Many years before, two people stood in the living room of that very same building. It was new, back then. Raw and unfurnished, but not gnawed on by passage of time and neglect. It was still visibly a cheap, affordable and low-profile place.

The couple who had just entered were fairly young, dressed in simple, Water Tribe travel clothes. They had clearly gone a long way to get there. The man had sharp, angular features, long, braided hair and a grim expression. The woman standing next to him was slightly shorter, with a deceptively slight build. Her skin was darker than her husband’s, and her black hair was tied in loops around her ears. She was visibly pregnant.

“Is that the best we could get?” the man asked with a sigh.

“It’ll do, Yakone,” his wife answered. “It’s cheap and there’s a dozen other families like ours living here. We’ll blend in. We need to keep a low profile for a while more.”

“Do you really think we’ll be followed here, Aluki?” Yakone asked his wife, sceptically.

“I wouldn’t rule it out, but it’s not just that,” she answered. “Katara is here. Avatar Aang’s wife. She learned bloodbending from Hama, and she’s responsible for outlawing it in both Water Tribes and Republic City. It’s easier to hide here, but she does live here, watching for any signs of it like an owlbear. And if she finds out that not only do we have bloodbending, but it’s more powerful than anything she knows, she’ll turn this city inside-out looking for us.”

Yakone nodded.

“Yes, you’re right. Our bloodbending won’t save us if half of benders in this city want our heads. Besides… I don’t think you should use the special techniques right now.”

Aluki smiled and touched her stomach.

“Indeed I shouldn’t. We’ll just have to bide our time. This city is ripe for the picking, if we’re just patient. And if we wait long enough, we’ll have another bloodbender to share my family’s secret with. Katara is naïve if she thinks that crazy old coot Hama was the first one to discover bloodbending.”

They both laughed and went about unpacking their possessions.

* * *

 

Yakone and Aluki stood in front of a window in their house, watching their two sons play. Noatak was running around, while Tarrlok was trying, to hit him with splashes of water. The boys laughed whether he succeeded or failed.

“There’s no denying it, Yakone,” Aluki said sourly. “Noatak is a non-bender. If Tarrlok manifested his bending by now, his older brother isn’t going to.”

Yakone leaned his forehead on his wrist, pressed against the glass.

“Rotten luck. We’re two powerful waterbenders. Your family has had strong bending for generations, and yet our firstborn is a non-bender? This is going to make things difficult.”

“And we’re not going to have any more children,” his wife reminded him, crossing her hands across her chest. “We’ll just have to make sure Tarrlok can master our techniques. Noatak can still be useful to our operation, if that’s what he wants. How are the talks going?”

“Not bad. There’s a lot of immigrants from both the Water Tribes, and even the swamp, coming in. Many of them are willing to get their hands dirty in order to get rich quickly. Some of them are talented enough that we could teach them bloodbending if we had to… the regular techniques, of course.”

Aluki shook her head.

“Only if we have to. Using bloodbending is escalation. It’ll make the law crack down on us all the harder, and bring the Avatar’s attention.”

* * *

 

“Yakone?” Hiroshi blurted out. “The bloodbending crime lord? I’d heard rumours he had a family who had gone into hiding after his capture, but…”

“But you didn’t know that one member of said family was Councilman Tarrlok. Yes,” Amon said. Amon… or Noatak. It was hard to fit those two names into one person. “Of course, I was no longer part of the family at that point. Not really.”

“Still, a non-bender born of two powerful benders,” the Lieutenant said. “It happens, of course. No one really knows how it works. Why some people are born with bending. And it works the other way around, too. Both Master Katara and our former Chief of Police were powerful benders whose parents were non-benders.”

Hiroshi chuckled, despite the gravity of the atmosphere.

“The latter certainly isn’t too keen to remind anyone of that. Master Katara would rather tell people of her mother, who had sacrificed her life for her, than her father, who had fought in the long war.”

Amon nodded.

“I’ve gathered some knowledge on the subject, but I’m far from certainty myself. It’ll come in time, however. The story has just begun.”

* * *

 

It was a different place. Not their home, but one of their father’s other properties, secret and clandestine. The two brothers were older now, and their sparring was no longer a child’s play. Their mother watched them from the other side of the room.

Noatak assumed a martial arts stance, as his brother took position between two barrels of water. They stared each other down for a while, neither one moving. Finally, Tarrlok made the first move. With a sudden thrust of his hand a jet of water rose from one of the barrels and lashed out at Noatak’s legs. The non-bender jumped nimbly above the attack, and sailed through the air in his brother’s direction.

Tarrlok’s response to this development was to send two waves of water crashing at his brother, intending to swat him out of the air without giving him room to dodge. Noatak was prepared for it, however, landing gracefully and crouching as the two waves crashed, splashing water everywhere. He slid across the slippery floor and swept his leg in a wide arc, knocking Tarrlok’s legs from under him before rising to an upright position. The waterbender fell backwards, but he was hardly helpless. The water that had splashed during the earlier bout rose up to cling to Noatak’s legs and solidify itself into ice.

Noatak was not quick enough to protect himself against this threat. One of his feet was trapped in the solidifying ice as his brother’s back hit the ground. Before he was able to shatter the ice, Tarrlok was on his feet again, trying to rather straightforwardly smack him in the face with a simple – crude even – jet of water. Despite being off-balance, Noatak dodged the jet and came towards the waterbender with a few hooks and punches. Tarrlok found himself unable to defend against them, and staggered backwards. Noatak laughed.

“Another one for me. You don’t do very well once I get close, brother.”

Tarrlok rubbed his face.

“I keep practicing against our parents and other waterbenders. Last week father even got some earthbenders to fight me. You’re the only non-bender I ever get to spar with.”

“Because you need to know how to fight benders,” his mother cut in, speaking for the first time in a while. She sounded somewhat irritated. “You’ll be facing a lot of them if you want to inherit our empire.”

“But I beat him,” Noatak said, incredulous. “Doesn’t that mean he needs to watch out for non-benders as well?”

“Few non-benders are as talented as you are,” Aluki said, dismissively. “It’s benders we’re going to be up against as your father and I expand our holdings. Both from other gangs and the law enforcement. You know Chief Beifong, don’t you? She can bend metal, and she’s training an entire force of people who can do the same. Now that’s an enemy to be reckoned with.”

“But-” Noatak seemed at a loss for words confronted with his mother’s casual dismissal.

“That’s enough, Noatak.” Aluki looked at her pocket watch. “It’s time to begin your advanced lessons, Tarrlok. We’ll need to leave the city for the evening.”

The two waterbenders vacated the room, leaving Noatak fuming.

* * *

 

“Bloodbending is older than most people realize,” Aluki said, as Tarrlok stood with his mother in the middle of a small valley, outside Republic City. There was no one else in sight, apart from a few cages containing spider cats and elephant rats. “Katara would have everyone think it was invented by Hama, the woman from the Southern Water Tribe captured by the Fire Nation during the great war. She knows that it’s not true, however.”

“Bloodbending is periodically discovered by waterbenders who are desperate enough. Cut off from water, facing overwhelming odds… those are the things that drive us to tap into the very source of all life. Not every waterbender can do it, of course. It takes power, talent and hard work.”

“Why is blood so much harder to manipulate than normal water?” Tarrlok asked, nervously. “Even bending plants isn’t so hard.”

“It’s because blood is life. It carries in it chi, the spiritual energy that gives us life and allows us to bend,” his mother explained. “When we try to invade someone’s body this way, their chi rebels and overpowers us. That is why we need the power of the full moon behind us… most of the time.”

She looked up at the sky, where the full moon shone brightly. She released some water from a water skin she had at her belt and used it to release a spider cat from its cage. The animal ran away immediately, but Aluki’s hands shot forward quickly, in a gripping, jerky motion. The critter stopped abruptly, shaking and twitching. The woman twisted her hands, bringing them closer to her, which dragged the spider rat in her direction. It clearly had no control over its own body. Aluki nodded and lowered her hands. The spider rat fled quickly, still trembling.

“My family is the only one in which the skill has been passed from one generation to another. It never happens, otherwise. Bloodbending is a great taboo whenever it surfaces. My ancestors have kept it secret, only using it if they have to. In the close-knit community of the Water Tribes, it’s hard to keep such a power hidden. In the chaotic, shifting mass of the Republic City… it is something different. It’s easy to get lost in the crowd here. And that self-righteous Katara can’t navigate the city quite as well.”

“And you’re going to teach me those techniques?” Tarrlok asked, excited. There was something Noatak had no answer to. He always did have all the answers, but what could he do if his blood was bent?

“Yes. Just the basic ones, at first. The rest will come later.”

“The rest?”

“Something my grandmother came up with, and my father refined,” Aluki explained. “The great weakness of bloodbending is its reliance on the full moon. If the moon isn’t full, it can’t be done. But… sometimes it can.”

“How?”

“Blood is life. When you bloodbend someone, you control the thing that makes them alive. But life resists, so it’s very difficult. The technique my grandmother developed is… simultaneous bloodbending, so to speak. When you bend someone’s blood, you bend the blood within yourself as well, to pit your chi against theirs. It’s very, very dangerous. It killed my grandmother.” Aluki’s voice was grave. “Not all at once. But the damage it did to her energy made her terminally ill, beyond the ability of healers to fix. We do not use this technique unless there is no other choice.”

“Is there any defence against bloodbending?” Tarrlok’s voice was excited and eager. That was true power. Something only waterbenders could do, and something only his family knew.

“If you try to use it on another bloodbender, it becomes a contest of skill and willpower,” his mother responded. “Those who cannot bloodbend cannot do much to resist. My grandmother, before she died, believed that it might be possible to focus your chi into ignoring the bloodbending, with enough concentration and mastery of self. But no one has ever done it.”

“So… Noatak couldn’t either,” Tarrlok said, trying to sound casual.

“What does your brother have to do with anything?” His mother sounded surprised. The young man’s shoulders slumped.

“Nothing. I just… I’d really like to beat him at something. He keeps trying to prove that he’s better than me even though he’s a non-bender.”

“Beat him?” His mother sounded incredulous. “You’re a bender. And you’re about to learn bending techniques few have an inkling of. You have capabilities he can only dream of. Stop feeling like you should envy him. He wants you to feel that way, because he already does.”

Tarrlok took in a deep breath.

“Yeah. You’re right. And when I learn bloodbending, he’ll finally have to admit it.”

* * *

 

“You wanted to see me, father?”

Some years later, Noatak was standing before his father. Yakone was looking at his son with a tired, exasperated expression. They stood in a gloomy office room, where the bloodbending crime lord attended to the administrative duties of running his racket. His knowledge of the forbidden bending arts wasn’t as deep as that of his wife, but he had much more patience for the tedious bean-counting that came with running a city-wide crime ring. It wasn’t that much different than running something supposedly honest, truthfully. There was just more bodies under more floorboards.

“Yes. I would like to know why you chose to pick a fight with my enforcers,” he said, sourly.

“They picked a fight with me, father. Not the other way around. They treat me like I’m a… a servant. I’m your son! And you’re in charge!”

Yakone pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Noatak, you need to control yourself. You can’t just beat people up over…”

“Yes, I did beat them up, didn’t I? I left them, your benders, sprawled on the ground. They never stood a chance. Why am I being treated as lesser? Why do you keep paying so much attention to Tarrlok? He’s a fool who just happened to be born with bending.”

Yakone sighed again and sank into a nearby chair.

“Son. You’re not… lesser. Regardless of what people say. You’re talented, intelligent and strong. If you were a waterbender, like the rest of us, your command over our element would be unmatched, and you might even push our bloodbending techniques further than your mother has. But you’re not a bender, and there’s no getting around it.”

Noatak thrust his hands into his hair.

“Yes, yes! If I was a bender, I might even do something with it! You have all this power and you use it for… bullying. For getting rich quick. And you teach Tarrlok to do the same. Why is it that people with actual vision are always non-benders? Maybe it’s because we can’t control the elements and throw our weight around. We have to actually use our brains now and then.”

“That’s enough!” Yakone cut in. “You stand in a city founded by two benders. One of them being the Avatar.”

“Yes, on lands that benders had ravaged before. You know, Firelord Ozai? Avatar Aang took his bending away.”

“Rubbish.” Yakone waved his hand. “Avatar Aang killed Ozai, and the story about taking his bending was made up later to make him look good. Taking away bending is impossible.”

“Maybe it is. But if so, it shouldn’t,” Noatak said, wandering over to the window and staring through it. “ Chi-blocking can take it away for a moment. What if…”

“Enough of those idle fantasies.” His father’s voice broke his contemplation. “You can’t change the way the world works. Some people are benders, other aren’t. You can’t do anything about it. Not even with… chi-blocking, or whatever it is.”

“I clearly can’t do anything about it while staying here, in your… bending triad,” Noatak said, dismissively. “I’m leaving. You won’t see me ag-“

He suddenly stopped in the doorway, trembling and struggling against an invisible force. His father had raised his hand, and his face had a pained expression.

“Leave, if you wish. Anyone else I’d kill for it, but you’re still my son. If you reveal anything about us to our enemies, or the police, however… I will find you.”

He lowered his hand and Noatak turned to him, his face blanched.

“How did you-?”

“That’s simply one of the things that are beyond you, a non-bender. Now go. You’ve made your choice. If you’re having second thoughts, it’s too late.”

Noatak fled.

* * *

 

Tarrlok walked in on his brother as he packed his belongings.

“What-“

“I’m leaving. Father cast me out. Or I decided to leave myself. It’s sort of in-between,” Noatak said, throwing on his backpack. “Well, good riddance all around, I’m sure. I’m done playing butler and I’m sure you’ll appreciate not having me around anymore.”

Tarrlok stood there, uncertain. He could not deny it. Over the years, his relationship with his brother had become very strained. The proud, talented non-bender was increasingly frustrated with playing second fiddle to the rest of his family. Tarrlok, on the other hand, found that learning to bloodbend had done little to assuage his insecurity. Noatak’s taunts about bending being the only thing to make him special bit deep.

“I want nothing to do with any of you. Don’t worry, though, I’ll keep my head low. Not only would father kill me, but I don’t want people thinking you’re my family,” Noatak went on. Then he suddenly moved and gripped his brother by the shoulders.

“Father bloodbent me. During the day. And the moon isn’t full now, even at night. How did he do it? Do you know? You must know. All those secret training sessions…”

“Yes! Yes, I know! And if you don’t let go of me, I’ll bloodbend you into submission too!” It was an empty threat. Tarrlok had been unable to master the simultaneous bloodbending techniques at that time yet, much to his mother’s disappointment. But he relished the look of panic it brought to Noatak’s face. The non-bender let go and stepped back.

“Fine. I want nothing to do with any of you, ever again. You’re pathetic, all of you. All this power… and this is what you use it for.”

The door slammed behind him.

* * *

 

For the next few years, Noatak hid on the fringes. He mostly employed himself as an inexpensive bodyguard. Non-benders found it hard to find work in that field, but sometimes people needed someone low-profile, or had no money to hire a bender. He got by, staying off his family’s radar as Republic City was gripped by an increasing panic. A merciless criminal gang, led by a bloodbender, was terrorizing the populace. They threatened and extorted. People who resisted were brutalized, or worse, and their property destroyed. But one day, it was over.

Noatak stood in the crowd of people, watching Avatar Aang step onto the platform to address the citizens of Republic City. The last of the Air Nomads looked tired and distressed. He waited for the crowd to fall silent before speaking.

“I know what you want to ask me, people of Republic City. Yes, I did take away Yakone’s bending after he had displayed the ability to bloodbend in broad daylight. My wife, the esteemed waterbending master Katara, is investigating that power as we speak.”

The crowd emitted another wave of noise. The question that broke through was “But how did you take his bending?”

“Prior to my battle with Firelord Ozai at the end of the Hundred Years’ War, I did receive the power to bend energy within people. It allows me to take away bending. I did use it to strip Ozai of his firebending. I did not, as some claim, kill him and then create the story.”

“Why hadn’t you used this power since then?” came the question from the crowd. That question burned inside Noatak’s mind as well. He held his breath, waiting for the Avatar’s response. Yes, why hadn’t he? He had the ability to bring justice. To take bending away from those who didn’t deserve it, who used it for their base lusts and greed. It was what his father had dismissed as impossible. And yet there it was, plain as day. Inflicted on him. Beautiful, brutal equality.

“It is not something I do lightly,” Aang answered. He sounded firm, but tired. Very tired. He sounded like an older man than he looked. “Taking away bending is a harsh punishment, and I will not risk abusing it. The ability to bend is a fundamental part of a person, and humankind at large. Both with Ozai and with Yakone, I had no other choice. If I start taking away bending too freely, I’ll risk upsetting the balance of the world. And that I will not allow.”

Noatak stopped listening at that point. Of course. Balance. Fundamental part of humanity. Easy for him to say. He was a bender, and clearly he was no different from all the other ones… not much different from his father. They all clung to the power that elevated them above the masses.

He started to push his way through the crowd. At some point, unconsciously, he became aware he was going to leave Republic City. If the Avatar was too weak to inflict justice on the world, something had to be done. Taking a person’s bending away permanently was possible. True, only the Avatar could do it. But once something was done… it could be done again. Once something was discovered… it could be rediscovered. Noatak would do so or die trying.


	6. Noatak's Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of a man who would don a mask continues. We also meet someone I suspect few people expected to see in this fic. And I got to write some spiritual and philosophical musings from the perspective of an oft-forgotten character.

Amon’s story went on in the small, empty room in the dockside district. It was hard, for Hiroshi and the Lieutenant, to make the connection between a boy named Noatak and the man sitting in front of them. Amon… was the mask. And the wondrous power to strip away bending. Thinking of him as a person, rather than an idea, was difficult.

“After leaving Republic City, I became a drifter. I wandered, without purpose, for years. There was a great desire burning in me, to fix the world’s mistakes. To enact the justice that the Avatar refused to consider. But what could I do? I had no notion of where to start. It is possible my quest for enlightenment would never have begun, had it not been for a chance meeting.”

Years had passed since Noatak left the Republic City, burning with anger at the Avatar. He was a grown man now. His skin had darkened, and he kept his hair longer, tying it back. His shoulders were broad and his posture imposing, and he was dressed in a drab grey coat with a hood. Years of hard living left him some scars. He was currently stretched on a bench in a small jail cell in a dingy, poorly-maintained jail situated in an altogether forgettable Fire Nation town. Then, someone entered.

She was tall, pale-skinned and with deeply black, short hair. Her features were sharp and elongated, especially her nose – which looked as if it had been broken and didn’t grow properly. Her eyes were deep gold. She wore a sleeveless dark red robe of sorts, with black trimmings, exposing her muscular arms. There were wrappings around her wrists and hands.

“Who are you?” Noatak said, getting up from his bench. “You don’t look like what passes for prison guards in this hole.”

“My name is Chinatsu. I was just passing through this town when I heard the story about a non-bender who had mopped the floor with three firebenders from this town’s constabulary. Allegedly, it took two more of them to finally overpower him, and they had to attack from behind. It’ll be a while before two of them walk again, to hear people tell it, unless they get a waterbending healer here somehow.”

“Make that three.” Noatak couldn’t help but smile proudly a little. “The sheriff is just playing tough. I can’t see how it concerns you, however.”

“Oh, I’m simply curious. Why would a drifter from the United Republic go and pick a fight with the constabulary in an insignificant Fire Nation town?”

“How do you know I’m from the Republic, and not one of the Water Tribes?” The question was entirely irrelevant to the discussion at hand, but Noatak couldn’t help but be inquisitive.

“You don’t carry yourself like a Water Tribesman,” Chinatsu responded with a shrug. “I get the impression of someone who grew up in a city, rather than a small tribe, from you. But answer my question, please.”

“Well… have you _seen_ this town?” Noatak asked, grimacing in disgust. “The constabulary is unbelievably corrupt. They keep everyone scared and obedient. Every firebender is given the option of joining them or suffering a accident. And I was the first person in a long time to care enough to try and change it.”

“Or the only,” Chinatsu said, nodding. “I’ve been travelling the Fire Nation for a while. You’re the first person I’ve met in a long time to have the drive for change. Everyone else is content to leave things as they are. It’s as if the Hundred Years’ War knocked the fight out of almost everyone.”

“Are you one of those who wish the Fire Nation had won?” Noatak asked with surprise and disgust.

“Of course not,” was the woman’s dismissive answer. “What good did the war ever do to the people of the Fire Nation? Several generations had to watch their sons and daughters march off to die on foreign shores, and for what? Because Firelord Sozin decided to play war, and his descendants weren’t any better?”

“It certainly did them no good,” Noatak had to admit. “But I’m not sure where you’re getting with this. And why are you discussing it with someone stuck in a jail cell and probably not getting out of it anytime soon?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know about ‘anytime soon.’” Chinatsu smiled. “We’ve been looking for someone just like you, I see. I can help you get out of here… unless I’m wrong about you.”

“Who do you mean by ‘we’?” Noatak asked, warily. But he couldn’t deny he was intrigued. If only by the chance to get out of here. He doubted the idiots who called themselves constabulary in this town could hold him for long in any event, but…

“I belong to a certain group that does care about the kind of thing you set out to correct when you thrashed those bullies in uniforms. We believe that it’s time the big and powerful stopped playing Pai Sho with the lives of thousands. And that the Avatar no longer has what it takes to guide humanity.”

Noatak tensed up, gripping the bars of his cell. All his bitterness over Avatar Aang’s weakness was on the tip of his tongue. But, no. He couldn’t give this stranger his life story just because she seemed to share some of his sentiments. Especially not his relation to the bloodbending scum. He simply said:

“The Avatar? He’s weak. Unwilling to do what he must.”

Chinatsu chuckled, clearly pleased.

“Looks like our meeting might be even more fortuitous than I thought. You don’t know the half of it, anyway. The White Lotus… have you ever heard of the White Lotus?”

Noatak shrugged.

“They’re some sort of secret order, I believe? They took Ba Sing Se from the Fire Nation at the end of the war, I know that much.”

“That’s what they used to be. Now… they’re the Avatar’s personal assistants. You’ll find out all about it if you agree to go with me.”

Noatak looked down at the floor. In truth, what choice did he have? If he refused, he’d go back to languishing in the cell until he found a way to escape. And then what? Keep roaming the world, avoiding his past and picking fights with benders? Whoever the group behind Chinatsu were, they had… something. A goal. They too were dissatisfied with how the world functioned. Maybe he could find allies in his cause? Something to bring him even a step closer to his dream of equality?

“Fine. How do you plan to spring me out of here?”

Chinatsu reached underneath her robe and produced a simple key ring.

“The beating you gave the local constabulary made some of them rethink their career plans. One of them was willing to part with those keys in exchange for some money. He’s quite far away from here, by now. My bribe was enough to buy him a good mongoose lizard. He probably would have just caved in if I’d thrown some fire around, but you’ve made enough of a mess as it is.”

Noatak tensed up.

“You’re a firebender?”

“Well, yes. Is that a problem?” Chinatsu sounded surprised.

“No, it’s not. I just wanted to be sure.” Foolish of him to believe he found a group of non-benders with ideals just like his. “Are there any more non-benders in this group you belong to?”

The firebender shrugged.

“There are some. One is even fairly important… Zaheer I think is his name. But our job is a dangerous one, and it takes a skilled non-bender to survive.”

Noatak shook his head slightly. Oh, well. He’d take what he could get. The woman’s offer was, at least, a chance at some direction and support. Maybe there was someone like-minded among her compatriots.

“Luckily, I’m as skilled as they come. Now, get me out of here.”

Chinatsu nodded and unlocked his cell door, then swung it open.

“Right enough. My cart is right outside. Let’s not stay in this place any longer than we have to.”

* * *

 

“As it turned out, the group was called the Red Lotus,” Amon said, in the present, as he finished recounting how Noatak had fallen in with the group. “My stay with them was short, but fruitful.”

“Who are they?” the Lieutenant asked. “And why do they call themselves like that?”

“Anarchists. They want to tear down the order of the world. Topple governments and reduce everything to its ‘natural state’. Their name comes from their disdain for the White Lotus… they believe that they’ve become little more than the Avatar’s butlers. That, at least, we can agree on. Most of their leadership are benders, obviously. Fitting that the people who want to bring back the primal order in which the fittest survive are those who are at a distinct advantage in such a world, isn’t it? I quickly realized that I would find no allies there.”

“Why stay, then?” Hiroshi remarked, somewhat surprised.

“Part of it was caution. Such groups do not take it lightly to defection. That, at least, we Equalists share with them. But it was also convenience. By pretending to go along with their ideology, I had access to training and knowledge. I knew I would need both if my dream were to ever become reality. I refined my chi-blocking, having finally had access to a real instructor, and picked up some other fighting skills. I also pored over the books and scrolls the order had. One of their leaders is a high-ranking noble in the Northern Water Tribe, and has a deep interest and all matters spiritual. His name is Unalaq. I never met him, and didn’t care to. I kept my head down and tried to find something in his collection that would help me.”

“It seems to have worked,” the Lieutenant observed.

“It did indeed. With help from an unexpected source.”

* * *

 

It was late at night in the secret Red Lotus library on an island close to the North Pole. Noatak was sitting at one of the desks, which was littered with papers. Books, scrolls and his own notes. Noatak could feel that he was onto something. Human body was powered by the energy usually referred to as chi. It had a clear connection to bending, as blocking the chi meant blocking bending. But could it be made permanent? Was it what the Avatar had done to Ozai and Yakone? That, Noatak couldn’t seem to grasp. Nor was there any way for him to replicate it in sight. Even the most precise, skilful chi-blocking wore off soon. But it had been done. Couldn’t it be done again? All bending had had to be learned and used for the first time, at some point. Everything began somewhere.

“You’re getting close, are you? But something is missing.”

Noatak sprang from his chair turning towards the source of the voice. It turned out to be a wide-shouldered, stocky man, with unruly hair and beard. He wore a simple robe that curiously resembled that of an Air Nomad, but was brown and unadorned. He leaned on a straight wooden staff.

“Who-“

“I am Zaheer. And you’re Noatak. A non-bender, just like me. Who has been part of our group for a while, but done his best to remain unnoticed. I wondered what your game was. And now, I think I know.”

“Really. And what is it?” Noatak let himself relax a little, but he was still focused on the man in front of him. Zaheer. He’d heard about him many times. He was widely respected among the Red Lotus, despite his lack of bending. If stories were to be believed, he made up for it with great skill in martial arts, tremendous cunning and deep knowledge of many subjects, especially those pertaining to the dead Air Nomad culture. The real one that was destroyed a century and a half before, not the… theme park version Tenzin and his servants were perpetuating.

“You were researching bending. Not any particular form of bending, but bending itself. Its source. The energy that flows through all of us and that benders can use to control the elements around them. I’ve been down the same path as you are now. I sought to give myself bending. But it cannot be done. I can tell you that, and spare you more effort in vain.”

Noatak’s mind raced. Give himself bending? The fool. But as much as he wanted to laugh in his face and tell him that his aim was the exact opposite, he knew that questioning Zaheer was an opportunity not to be missed.

“What am I missing, then? Why cannot it be done? The ability to bend relies on the chi paths. Benders can inflict their chi on the world around them. That’s why it can be interrupted by chi-blocking. But you need to be born with it. Why?”

“The ability to bend was bestowed on mankind before recorded history began,” Zaheer said. “The potential to shape the elements. Few people know it, but in all likelihood the Lion-Turtles did it, for reasons of their own. That was before Avatar Wan foolishly separated the spirit world and the human world.”

“And yet, Avatar Aang could take away bending. Even though he was only human.” And even though he was too weak and too cowardly to do it more than twice, Noatak thought, but did not say.

Zaheer shrugged.

“It is always easier to destroy than to build, I presume. Once Guru Pathik’s writings assured me that giving someone’s the power to bend is no longer possible, I stopped looking.”

Noatak did his best to hide the eagerness from his face. Could it be an actual lead? A name to look into?

“Guru Pathik? Who was he? An airbender?”

Zaheer raised an eyebrow.

“No. Like me, he was a non-bender who considered himself to be a… spiritual brother to the Air Nomads. He lived in the Eastern Air Temple. Of course, he was still alive before the genocide. The best I can do is to respect the culture that is long dead. He lived long enough to help Avatar Aang with his chakras, and then passed away.”

“A non-bender who possessed knowledge of the flow of energy in the human body? Perfect. He’s just what I need,” Noatak said, grinning.

“I just told you. It’s impossible. You need to-“

Noatak interrupted him by throwing his head back and laughing. This, finally, put Zaheer out of countenance.

“Got it all wrong, Zaheer. You assumed I wanted to acquire bending, just like you did. I don’t want anything to do with bending. I want the power to strip it away.”

Zaheer’s composure had returned by that time, so he merely raised an eyebrow.

“You seek to usurp the Avatar’s power, then. And using our group to gain what you need.”

“I usurp nothing. My goal is to do what the Avatar was too cowardly and weak to do. I want equality. I want a world that’s not ruled by people whose power was given to them by a caprice of birth. I will fix the world’s mistakes.”

“And you think taking away benders’ powers will bring equality?” Zaheer asked. His tone was more curious than anything.

“It will be a step,” Noatak said, pacing up and down the room. “I know I cannot take away every bender’s power. And even if I could, more benders will be born. But… it’ll be a crack in the bending world. The benders’ superiority will no longer be taken for granted. You should know, Zaheer, that once something is done… it only becomes easier. A single man capable of taking away bending can open the way for so much more.”

“You certainly do not lack for ambition,” Zaheer says, not without respect. “What you say isn’t untrue, of course. Guru Laghima knew that a light breeze in one place can result in a massive storm hundreds of miles away.”

Noatak stopped his pacing and quirked an eyebrow.

“Another Guru?”

“Yes. He was a master airbender thousands of years ago. His teachings are not widely known. Not all of them. I’m afraid Avatar Aang was somewhat selective in the knowledge he passed down to his son.”

“Avatar Aang was a fool, and his son is likewise. The Air Nomad culture died more than a hundred years ago,” Noatak said with a shrug. “But Guru Pathik… if he was a non-bender who could help the Avatar on the matter of chakras, his legacy might be just what I need. The flow of energy through the human body is the key to removing bending.”

“Clearly, it is.” Zaheer’s voice retained a tone of… almost academic curiosity. “The old Air Nomads had a deep understanding of it as well, and Guru Pathik seems to have both inherited it, and developed it further. As you must know, all the Air Nomads of old were airbenders. No one is quite sure why. Not even Guru Pathik was.”

“And yet you, a non-bender, claim to follow the culture. So do the… Air Acolytes. Which means Tenzin’s personal servants. Why?”

Zaheer shrugged.

“There’s wisdom to be found in the airbending philosophy, even if one can’t bend air. It preaches freedom and detachment. More importantly, it teaches us that nothing is solid. Nothing is unchanging. Nature is in a constant state of upheaval. And for the world to be in balance, we need to create change of our own, instead of futilely trying to resist it.”

Noatak shook his head.

“You keep your philosophy. I have a goal ahead of me, finally. I will develop a weapon for equality, or I will die trying. Are you going to stop me?”

Zaheer shook his head.

“No. Your attempt, whether successful or not, will incite chaos in the world. It’s in my best interest to let you do it. And since the Avatar and the White Lotus are your enemies as well, I see no cause to fear that you’ll expose us. But in order to let you go, I need you to answer one question. Honestly. Why do you do it? What set a man on a mission to wage war against bending?”

Noatak turned around and leaned against the table, staring through the window into the starry sky. He was silent for a long while. When he spoke, his words were slow, as if uttered from the depths of his soul.

“Because… the world is not just. It’s not fair, and it’s not equal. My parents are… were powerful benders. So is my brother. But what did they use it for? They terrorized Republic City with bloodbending. For what? Money, power and the satisfaction of putting fear in others. Meanwhile, people who could use it to do so much more are left languishing in their shadow. We need to try twice as hard just to be noticed. What did the benders do to deserve such power? They were born with it, nothing more. It’s not right. This world… is broken. And I’m going to fix it. To do it, I can’t challenge benders. Anyone can do it. I need to challenge bending itself.”

* * *

 

“And so he let you live? A strange man, that one,” Hiroshi mused.

“He is. Or was. It’s not common knowledge, but shortly after my departure, he and four other Red Lotus members tried to kidnap Avatar Korra. They failed, and were incarcerated. Whether they’re still alive, I don’t know. It’s of little consequence. What is of consequence is that as a result of that kidnapping attempt, Avatar Korra has been kept in a compound on the South Pole, trained and educated in security and isolation. But I’m getting ahead of myself. After leaving the Red Lotus, I journeyed south, to the Eastern Air Temple.”

* * *

 

The haggard, travel-worn man in a grey hooded coat made his way through the thick jungle towards the centuries-old ruins of the airbender temple. It quickly became apparent to him, however, that he was not alone there. Whoever had got there first was making quite a ruckus. He clearly heard the sound of rock being moved. Earthbent, most likely.

Noatak sighed. After all his travels, there just had to be some fools making a mess of his place of destination. He quickened his pace, determined to get it over with quickly, in a way that makes an example for others.

After emerging from the jungle, the chi-blocker saw two powerfully-built earthbenders, a man and a woman, lift a piece of the moss-covered rocky floor of the temple’s outermost courtyard. They were being directed by a short, thin man in spectacles, whose bearing and voice radiated petulant self-importance. A few other workers loafed around, not doing anything of note at the moment.

“Quickly, quickly,” the man droned . “We need to comb every piece of this place. The longer we spend here, the more likely someone is to discover us. And then it’s a diplomatic incident waiting to happen. Those ruins are under the protection of the Air Nation from the United Republic.”

“Someone already discovered you,” Noatak said, emerging from the woods. “Don’t worry, however. I won’t turn you over to the so-called Air Nation. I’ll be satisfied if you just leave and never return.”

The bespectacled man stared at the stranger, dumbfounded. Noatak certainly didn’t present a very endearing sight. His clothing was worn and dirty. He was unshaven and his hair was in disarray. He was covered in dust from a long, hard travel. Hard living had toughened him – given him broad shoulders and an assortment of scars.

“What? Who do you think you are? You have no more right to be here than we do.”

“I am no one, and it does not matter. You and your earthbender thugs will leave now.”

“Oh for the love of- I have no time for this. Lan, Quiang – get this fool out of our way. Everyone else, stay back.”

The two earthbenders looked at each other, shrugged and acted in unison, stomping their feet on the ground and punching forward. Two pillars erupted from the ground where Noatak stood, launched towards him from opposite sides. The intent was to simply crush him between them.

Noatak, however, was not going to be laid low by such an obvious attack. He started running once he noticed what the earthbenders were about to do, and the two pillars merely crashed into one another. Before the earthbenders could mount another attack, the lightning-quick fighter was already bearing down on them. Quiang raised a clumsy earth barrier in front of him, but Noatak jumped right above it, and struck out with both arms faster than eye could see. Two pairs of jabs hit the earthbender in the shoulders and just under his ribs, removing his bending entirely for a time. Lan sent a bounder flying at the chi-blocker, but a well-timed trip sent Quiang falling in its way, sending him to the ground. Lan was chi-blocked and on the ground before she could recover from the shock of having struck down her own brother.

“Pathetic,” Noatak said, looking over to the earthbenders’ employer, and the other workers. “The rest of you, get out. Those two lugs will follow you once they can move again. Or else. Perhaps this encounter will teach you a thing or two about the value of hiding behind benders. But I doubt it.”

He sat down cross-legged on the ground and paid no more attention to the escaping would-be looters, or to the earthbenders’ flight once they regained their faculties. Now that he finally reached the temple, he had to find out anything Guru Pathik might have left there.

* * *

 

“The division between body and spirit, like most separations we cling to, is an illusion.”

“Spirit permeates the body. The body fills and feeds the spirit. Their union is expressed through chi. This life energy has been known under many names across the centuries, but it remains the same. Chi enters and exits our body as we breathe. It flows through our blood and passes through chakras. We are chi and chi is us. Those of us gifted with bending can exert our chi onto the world around us, mastering the elements in accordance with the ancient covenant. The Avatar, as the ultimate expression of unity between flesh and spirit, possesses powerful chi running through their body. Even more so when they enter the Avatar State to combine the might of all their incarnations. Those of us not born with bending can still tap into this energy, however. Even if I’m the only one I know of who could.”

“Most people go through their lives unaware of the ebb and flow of energy within them. How easily it can be disrupted and send our bodies and souls out of balance. The art of chi-blocking is just one expression of this danger. And few think of it as anything other than a weapon for non-benders against benders. Avatar Aang’s inner turmoil, weight of responsibility and traumatic experience had twisted his chi enough that his Avatar State was beyond his control. And yet, he eventually achieved it despite going against my teachings. What was I missing? Such a stark reminder of how little I truly know. I hope that I am not the last Guru and that someone will take what I managed to discover, to bring forward true understanding.”

“Would it be possible to send someone’s energy so far out of balance it would cause them immediate, visible harm? Once again, it is possible to block a person’s chi to paralyze them and take their bending, if they have it. Could such a thing be made permanent? I shudder at the thought, but I believe it might be possible.”

“Bending is a gateway between the human and spirit worlds. An intrinsically human skill, and yet learned either from spirits, or spiritual animals. The emergence of bending appears to coincide with the separation of the worlds in the prehistoric time before time, and the appearance of the Avatar. The ability to bend only had to be instilled in humans; we perfected it ourselves.”

“I’ve meditated my way into the Spirit World at times, but never for long. It is not a safe place for the human spirit, and idle curiosity is not a good enough reason to venture there. I was always more interested in the physical world.”

* * *

 

“Guru Pathik’s writings were enlightening,” Amon said, many years later. “I spent years living in the Eastern Air Temple as a hermit. Reading the scrolls he had left behind, and meditating on them. I had an intimate understanding of the flow of energy in the human body and soul. But there was one piece missing. As much as I understood how someone’s energy can be disrupted in such a way as to make bending impossible, I had no way of actually gaining access to the chi of another. So I turned to the Spirit World for answers.”

“The spirits? You don’t see much of them here, in Republic City… in fact, I’ve never seen one in my life,” Hiroshi observed. Despite himself, Amon’s story had him awed. The things this man had seen and done… “There’s something about the metropolis that makes reverence for spirit seem like an abstract concept.”

“The spirits are tools, Hiroshi. Just like the weapons and machines you design, they’re something we can use to match up to the benders’ advantage. They simply require a different set of skills to use properly. And unfortunately, they can be worse than any bender when dealing with non-bending humans. But I managed to get what I want from them. Sacrifices had to be made. This is why I am not Noatak now, but Amon, and why I wear a mask.”


	7. Voice for the Voiceless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a rather stark change in environment. Writing for the Spirit World was a challenge, but one I needed to tackle. I like to think I did well. It ends on quite a strong note, in any event.

“An excursion to the Spirit World,” Amon said. He had been fiddling with his mask, as if nervously. The first crack in this man’s iron-clad, cold demeanour. “Even for someone who has travelled as far as I had, it defied comprehension. Of course, I had heard stories. Avatar Aang had travelled there on occasion. The old General Iroh… the real one, not the fool child his grand-niece installed in the United Forces… had also allegedly travelled there. And, of course, spirits do sometimes abduct humans. But for a non-bender to venture there by their own will? Difficult to picture. But I wasn’t going to let anything stop me.”

* * *

 

Noatak sat cross-legged on the stone floor of the airbender temple’s courtyard. Hermit life hadn’t been unkind to him. His hair grew long, and he was sporting an unkempt beard, but he was hale and hearty, and stronger than ever. He was holding a white mask, painted in a conservative red pattern – the most distinctive feature was a red circle on its forehead. He acquired it on one of his occasional ventures outside the temple to procure supplies.

The purpose of the mask was hardly decoration. Noatak had meditated and pondered over his excursion to the Spirit World for a long time. He knew that the Spirit World was an opposite of the material world. It wasn’t ruled by a set of hard, unbending laws. Everything there changed by the will of its inhabitants. The greater spirits carved out their demesnes in it, while the lesser ones made their way through that landscape. Humans whose spirits made their way there had to tread lightly, as they were below even the lowliest of spirits in their ability to shape the Spirit World. The Avatar could tread among them as an equal, because of their powerful, old spirit and their role as the bridge. However, benders were at no advantage there, for once. Bending did not function in the Spirit World.

Which was why Noatak wouldn’t go as himself. He wouldn’t go there as Noatak, a drifter escaped from Republic City. He would go as… Amon. It seemed like an appropriate name. It was short, and he could recall it belong to a spirit of vengeance and justice for the oppressed, somewhere, at some point. It didn’t really matter how true it was. In the Spirit World, he would be Amon, the harbinger of equality. His mask would be a face of those the world denied a face and a voice. And he would leave the Spirit World with a weapon to fix the world’s mistakes. As an idea, rather than a man, he would be safer. It’s harder to grasp an idea. It slips away. It is greater than any spirit.

Noatak put on his mask and closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply, letting the energy in his body flow freely with the air. In and out. He let go of all thoughts save for his determination to get what he needed for his dream to come true. Even that wasn’t a conscious thought. Merely a constant backdrop to his thoughts. Let his body go. Cross the barrier between the physical and the metaphysical. The human spirit was a remnant of the prehistoric times, before the worlds became separate. It was bound to the flesh and bone, and to the elements. But if the need was pressing and the will was strong, it could soar. And Noatak’s spirit did.

Amon opened his eyes and looked through his mask at the surroundings he found himself in. It appeared to be underground. A small cave, buried under tons of rock. He looked around. A small hole led upwards. He crawled into it, and began making his way up. The passage grew ever narrower. It was as if the rock was bearing down on him, trying to keep him trapped.

But Amon had had experience with being held down, hadn’t he? The entire bending world had always tried to keep him, and other non-benders, down. Compliant and in awe of benders. But he was there because he wouldn’t stand for it. He began to crawl more quickly, and the rock was pushed aside. The passage widened, and Amon emerged into the Spirit World.

He found himself in a narrow, overgrown ravine. The hole through which he had climbed was nowhere to be seen. The ravine was covered by thick weeds and bushes, with a slow, small stream trickling through the middle. The sides of the ravine were occupied by large, naked, gnarled trees. It was not a welcoming sight. Amon knew that he would need to be on his guard there. It wasn’t a place that welcomed mortal humans.

He made his way up the side of the ravine. He had very little idea where he should go. But he knew he would find nothing in such a dreary hole. Besides, the geography of the Spirit World was largely a matter of personal opinion, as far as he knew. Once he did have a goal in mind, getting there would be a question of clarity of direction, rather than physical locomotion.

And so, Amon set out. He landscape around him was a thick forest of dead, naked trees, blocking out most of the light. Shapes skittered around, between the trunks and branches. Watching him, and shadowing him. Eventually, one of them coalesced into something, for the lack of a better word, solid. A towering dark grey shape, with eight long legs and a pair of spindly arms, all attached to a thin, wiry body and a small head with a pair of bulging red eyes.

“I haven’t seen a human here in a… very long time,” it said. Its mouth was a gaping maw full of long, crooked teeth.

“One imagines we don’t come here without a very good reason,” Amon retorted, staring the spirit down without flinching. The thing snorted.

“Good reasons, bad reasons. Bad reasons, good reasons. Humans call them such long after it’s too late to do anything. But humans don’t come here anymore. They don’t care about spirits. They encase their homes in metal and forget all about us.”

“Why wouldn’t we? We have our own problems, without adding new ones by getting involved with spirits. We need to deal with benders, rulers, politicians…”

“Benders? What’s ‘benders’?”

“…the people who can control the elements through the movements of their bodies,” Amon said, actually bemused by the spirit’s apparent ignorance.

“Oh, that. The Lion-Turtles gave it to you when you packed up and left… when Avatar Wan decided to split you off from us.” There was a certain amount of bitterness in the spirit’s voice. “I miss the times when humans were around.”

The Lion-Turtles gave humans the power over the elements? Not all of them, evidently. Or maybe the ability was not passed down from parent to child perfectly? Ah, well. It hardly mattered now.

“And why is that?” Amon asked instead.

“You were so scared. So bitter and jealous of us, huddling in your villages on the Lion-Turtles. You wouldn’t have survived without them. Your resentment was delicious.”

The spirit lowered its ugly head to Amon’s eye level.

“But you, human in the mask. I smell… so much resentment in you. Such rage. What could possibly make one man so bitter?”

“I am not one man. I am Amon, a voice for the voiceless,” the masked man said. “And the revenge for the downtrodden.”

The spirit grinned horribly.

“So am I. My name is Kuurosivo. The spirit that dwells in the dark and lonely places. The forgotten and ignored.”

“Fortuitous we should meet, then,” Amon said, coldly. The spirit laughed in response, throwing back its head and displaying all its long, crooked teeth.

“My dear human who is many humans. There’s no such thing as a coincidence in the Spirit World, or chance. You met me because of what you brought with you to this place. Coming here claiming to speak for the voiceless, as you do… you gravitated here. That’s how this world works, now. I don’t like it any more than you do, but that’s how your… Avatar set it up.”

“He’s not my Avatar,” Amon said, dismissively. “The Avatar represents bending. So he does not stand for me.”

“Bending, yes. Little else, nowadays. The worlds were without their Avatar for a long time. Humans forgot us. Forgot to treat us as anything other than monsters to be avoided. Avatar Aang did his best, but had so little time… and the new Avatar is the product of their time.”

“The Avatar is obsolete,” Amon remarked. Kuurosivo grinned again.

“They are indeed. You and I think alike, Amon. The man who claims to speak for more than just one man. In fact… you would fit quite well here. In my forest. Among the lost and the damned.”

“I do not plan on staying,” Amon said, starting down the spirit. “I am here for a specific purpose.”

“So you say. But with the Avatar so powerless and so distanced from the matters of the spirit… with humans no longer caring for us… there are those, within the Spirit World, that say the old covenant no longer matters. That we should take from them as we please, like we once did.”

“Is that so? Then you’ve lied to me. You’re no downtrodden. You’re just another bully, hungry for power. You’re not like me, and never will be. Stand aside. I am here for a weapon in a war against bending. To fix the world I live in. You’re free to stew in yours.”

Kuurosivo bristled, stretching to its full height and baring its teeth. Then, it lunged. Before Amon could react, he was pinned to the ground. Instead of devouring him, like he expected, the spirit stared into his eyes with its bulging, red ones. Amon felt a force, pushing against his soul. The spirit was trying to force its way in, to possess him and remodel him in its image.

He wouldn’t have it. He had not come this far, to another world, only to be devoured by some ephemeral being that claimed to be marginalized and shunned, but didn’t truly know anything about being downtrodden. He focused all his power of will to resist the Kuurosivo. For a brief moment, the spindly spider-spirit became benders. All benders, each and every one, who kept non-benders like him down. Who looked down on them and thought them irrelevant and powerless. All that he couldn’t do to them, save for beating individual benders in combat, he strove to do to the spirit.

He felt excruciating pain as his soul battled against the spirit. His vision went black, and he began to forget who he was, where he was, and why he was there. His essence was being drained by the predatory being that had ambushed him. He focused on the grim, cold certainty resting in his mind – he was Amon, the lone voice of non-benders in a world that didn’t care about them. The one who swore to end bending or die trying. But not like this, having fallen prey to a petty spirit that had grown bold because of the Avatar’s failures. As he felt his soul fill with the spirit’s essence, he concentrated only on filling it with such hatred and venom as to make it unbearable for the being.

And then, it was over. Amon lay down on the black grass of the Spirit World. Dead branches were falling to the ground all around him. He rose to his feet unsteadily. The forest looked as though it had been hit by a tornado. Trees were uprooted, and massive chasms were gaping in the ground, showing only inky blackness beneath. Dark shapes circled above him, like carrion birds above a dying ostrich-horse.

He looked towards Kuurosivo. The spirit was reeling, rolling on the ground and trying to get back to its feet. There was what looked like a gaping hole in his chest. Tendrils of black smoke were emitting from it… and towards him.

“What… what have you done, human?!” it shrieked. “I have never… if I’d known you humans can feel such hate!”

Behind his mask, Amon smiled slightly. He was not sure what had happened, but it appeared that in trying to devour him, the spirit had instead lost part of itself. Left it in him, perhaps.

“You know precious little about us, or anything else. Crawl back to whatever hole spawned you, spirit. You were right. The Avatar is obsolete. But that means so are you. After benders have been put in their place, perhaps humanity should turn towards you… the original oppressors, whom benders simply replaced. With the Avatar no longer relevant, we lost our last reason to bow down to you. Begone.”

* * *

 

As the spirit slithered away, Amon sat down on the ground and reached within himself, to examine what had happened to him. He felt different – he also felt an alien presence in his soul, flowing through his chi. He shuddered. Glad as he was that he had survived the encounter with Kuurosivo, he knew that it had marked him forever. He knew that spirit possession was fatal to humans. He only had a discarded part of a spirit within him, so he would live… for a time. But he would never be the same

There was another feeling, however, one that felt familiar to him. It filled him with a strange sort of confidence. Perhaps, since he had wrested a part of a spirit from it by force, he could use it as he saw fit. And the spirit wasn’t entirely wrong – there was a certain kinship between them, and it was enough to bring Amon into the spirit’s lair.

Half-consciously, he reached out to the ground below him. A human figure rose from the ground, composed of black wood. Streaks of red flowed through it, mimicking the flow of energy through the body. It was featureless apart from that. Amon looked at it, finding the ebb and flow of chi familiar… he knew it well. But now, he could touch it. Manipulate it. He felt his senses extend in a way that made it hard to picture what it had been like without them.

He put his arms on the mannequin. He remember that Avatar Aang had touched Yakone’s forehead and sternum when he took his bending. He did the same, but he couldn’t get a grip in the energy flowing through it. He considered it. Chi passed through chakras. To affect it, he would need to affect the chakras. Copying Avatar Aang’s methods would do him no good. He was his own solution, and would have to do it his way.

Any chi-blocker learned that different strikes were required to block different benders. Their chi didn’t focus through the same chakras. But Amon sought something fundamental, like what Avatar Aang had done – he took the bending of both a firebender and a waterbender. He needed to strike at the very core of bending.

Slowly, thoughtfully, he placed his right thumb on the spirit-mannequin’s forehead. Located there was the Light chakra, that dealt with illusion and was blocked by lies. Non-benders deluded themselves into a feeling of superiority because of their personal power. Perhaps stripping that illusion away would disrupt one’s chi enough to make bending impossible. With this realization, Amon felt a connection to the spirit-puppet representing a human. He was making progress.

Still, he was not quite there. He needed more. He examined the mannequin some more. Beneath the Light chakra was the Sound chakra, dealing with truth and blocked by lies. Yet the lie that was the Avatar and the world order they propped up didn’t seem to adversely affect any bender. Maybe the harsh, naked truth would. Yes, that was it. Guru Pathik had taught Avatar Aang to let go of lies and illusions. Amon would destroy the benders’ powers by inflicting the raw, naked truth of what they really are, and what kind of world they create, on them.

He gripped the mannequin by the neck, applying pressure to where the Sound chakra would be on the human body. He concentrated on the truth he wanted to force the benders to witness, and saw the flow of energy through the human effigy change. It changed its course, and became subdued. Normal. Equalized.

Amon raised his fists to the Spirit World’s alien sky and cried out in triumph. Then, everything went black.

* * *

 

Amon awoke on the cold floor of the Eastern Air Temple. He shook his head. The memories of the Spirit World were hard to reconcile with what he saw around him now. But, he had been there. He could feel it. The alien energy throbbing through his veins. He remembered the palpable feeling of sheer triumph when he first exerted his power. Now, however… in the material world, he could feel that the power he brought with him did not belong there. He felt drained by it… eaten away. A human could not steal from the spirits without paying a price, clearly.

That was fine. Hastening his death was an acceptable price to pay for a weapon to strike at the heart of the bending world. Amon got up and looked at the darkening sky. The end of bending began that day. He turned his gaze towards the north-east. Republic City, where Noatak had been born, was there. It was also where Avatar Aang finally had finally proven his weakness to the world. Carved from the wounds of the great war, instigated by the power-hungry benders and enabled by another weak Avatar, it represented a new world – one that did not need bending anymore. The man who had just irrevocably become Amon knew that the first blows in the battle for equality had to be struck there.

 


	8. A New Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an important chapter for several reasons. We see a discussion in which different philosophies and visions clash. Then we see many minor, rank-and-file Equalists, in keeping with this story's goal of giving them a voice and making them matter. In the end, a pivotal decision is made.

In a small clearing away from a road between two largely insignificant Earth Kingdom towns, a terrified and confused middle-aged man was behind held down by a broad-shouldered stranger, whose face was obscured by a mask and a ragged hood of an altogether torn cloak.

The masked man pleaded for the stranger to let him go, as he had nothing of value, but his tormentor was deaf to his pleas. He forced his victim to his knees, and placed one thumb on his forehead, and the other on his sternum. Even though nothing visible happened, the kneeling man screamed and thrashed on the ground, clutching his head, before finally coming to a stop. He was dead.

Amon looked down at the cooling corpse. Evidently, applying his techniques to real, living benders was something different than it was when he’d first practiced it in the Spirit World. Every so often, a subject died. No matter. He’d have plenty of opportunity to practice on his way to Republic City. And those benders whose powers he successfully took were later killed, regardless – he had no need for notoriety at this point.

Then, however, he clutched his chest. Regardless, he had little time. With every passing day, and every time he used his power, he could feel the spirit’s essence claw its way deeper into him. Spirit possession was fatal for humans. What was happening to him seemed to be spirit possession occurring extremely slowly. Which would kill him or drive him mad eventually. Not in a year, most likely, or even two. But slowly and surely. Amon had little concern for his own life, but it did mean he did not have that much time. He had to get to Republic City swiftly, and begin plotting his next move.

* * *

 

“I made my way from the Eastern Air Temple here quickly after returning from the Spirit World,” Amon said. “I only stopped to procure supplies. I could take off my mask more often back then, which helped. Unfortunately, I can do it less and less often now.” As he spoke, black veins appeared on his face. Hiroshi and the Lieutenant were taken aback.

“Is that-” Hiroshi began.

“It is,” Amon said, nodding and putting his mask back on. “As I told you, spirits are tools. But dangerous tools. I paid a steep price for getting what I needed. It was a price worth paying, but steep nonetheless.”

“So… you’re going to die,” Hiroshi said, his voice concerned. “Or go mad. It may take some years, as you said, but you will. What’s your plan, then? Can your powers be passed on to others?”

“I do not know. My power… it’s not a skill, as such. It’s enlightenment. I will try to guide anyone willing and able down that path. But it is by no means guaranteed. As for my plan… it is to make the Avatar force death’s hand. She will kill me.”

He was met by stunned silence.

“What?” the Lieutenant finally asked, shocked and dismayed. “But then she would win!”

“And it will be a paltry, physical victory. The Avatar, destroying a non-bender? Not very remarkable. But in a war of ideas, which our revolution will be, it will be a crushing defeat. It will show the world that the Avatar is willing to kill to preserve the status quo that gives all the power to benders. And to protect her own unique power.”

“And how do you know she will kill you?” Hiroshi said, sceptically, rubbing his chin.

“I will force her to. I will strike at the very core of her identity by threatening to take her bending. What is the Avatar, without bending? What is the Avatar, if someone obtained the ability to take bending away and is willing to use it? She will break. I will destroy her. Not physically, but in spirit.”

“Wouldn’t just taking her bending be simpler?” the Lieutenant asked. “It would be a tremendous blow against all benders. Their hero, their symbol, torn down.”

“And it would make her a martyr. Benders, and non-benders, of all nations would turn on us and destroy us. The Avatar would be reborn eventually… and I truly do not know if their bending would be intact. I do not even know if I could take her bending at all,” Amon said, with brutal honesty. “No. To fight benders physically is to fight on their terms. A non-bending revolution will be a war of ideas. We need to show the non-benders of the world that they no longer need to be afraid, or to bow down to benders.”

“And then what?” Hiroshi asked bluntly.

“Once the non-benders realize it, there’s nothing the benders will be able to do to stop them,” Amon said. “There’s more of us. Our labour makes this world spin. It always has, but now the technology belongs to us, as well. Benders would need to adapt, or be destroyed.”

His eyes rested on Hiroshi, boring deep into his.

“In a world where non-benders have taken their rightful place, no drunk earthbender is going to kill innocent people through negligence. I am willing to sacrifice myself for such a world.”

He then turned to the Lieutenant.

“In the world I’ll create, everyone’s merits will be judged fairly and equally, without non-benders having to live in the benders’ shadow.”

The Lieutenant nodded, smiling grimly. He hardly needed convincing. Amon’s cause and methods appealed to him strongly. Hiroshi, however, was not so easily swayed. He took off his glasses and began to wipe them with a handkerchief. He always did it while thinking, especially when he was troubled by something.

“That’s a… compelling vision,” he said. “But what you’re suggesting… it’ll be a disaster. A war in the streets of Republic City. _My_ city. I contributed more to its growth than most. I don’t want it to burn in a revolution.”

Amon got up and began pacing the room slowly.

“That is true, Hiroshi. Your vision is one of the driving forces behind this city… and the root of the Equalist movement. But tell me – how much has truly changed? Is the power in the city not in the hands of benders, and people supported by them? Is the Republic not simply a protectorate of the bending nations? Did one of the Councillors not receive his position only because of his unique bending ability? Is the ultimate judge and arbiter of the world not a bender?”

“Yes. That’s all true. But what you’re planning to do… starting a revolution, challenging the Avatar-”

“I only plan to do what is necessary,” Amon said. “It will take no less. The world is stuck in its old ways, even though it adopts the trappings of a new era. Technology and politics are just a veneer of modernity over a society that still bows down to the power of bending. It cannot be changed the way you’ve tried it, by vigilante justice and political manoeuvring. It will require a revolution. We need to rise up, and take what’s rightfully ours. The benders will not simply give it to us.”

“They’ve always only given us scraps to keep us docile,” the Lieutenant chimed in, fully on Amon’s side. “Like making Bumi a general. It sounds nice, until you realize he’s the only non-bender in the brass and he’s an idiot.”

Hiroshi opened his mouth to speak, but Amon cut him off.

“I don’t want to diminish your accomplishments, Hiroshi,” he said. “Or your efforts, which have been tremendous. But you’ve hit a glass ceiling, have you not? Even a man with your resources and your determination can only do so much. Because the world is rigged against us. Always has been. You’ve been trying to make change happen gradually. And it has paved the way for a revolution. But now, the revolution must happen. Nothing less will do.”

Hiroshi got up as well, and faced Amon. He was shorter than the masked man, and nowhere near as imposing. He normally did his best to match up to the people he had to deal with, but now he was clearly off-balance, torn between his conscience and the truth he heard in Amon’s arguments.

“But the methods- you’re talking about tearing society apart. Challenging the Avatar. Taking away people’s bending- do you know Ga Min is dead?”

“I have heard. She was clearly too weak to live like we do. Such it is with benders. I will show them the truth of their so-called superiority.”

Hiroshi wiped the sweat from his brow. His words were pouring out quickly, now.

“I never wanted her dead. Taking her bending… there’s some justice in it. But not this. Do we want benders to die?”

“We do not. Indiscriminately killing would make us no better than Ozai, Yakone or their minions. Ga Min’s death was her own doing. She could have chosen to do something with her life after I took her bending. Instead, she chose to drink and attack firebenders. She had never known what it’s like to have to tread carefully around benders. No bender knows that. We need to show them, in a way that they won’t be able to ignore.”

Hiroshi walked over to the grimy, barely transparent window and stared through it, although in truth he barely saw it at all.

“Is there really no way other than a violent revolution? I’ve tried to work within the system. I’ve always wished the Equalists weren’t necessary. I don’t feel as though I’ve really achieved anything. But I’m still loath to hear you plan to tear it all down.”

“I will not tear it down. The organization you’ve built will make the revolution possible. Without it, I would have to spend a lot of time rallying the people. Time I might not have. Thanks to your efforts, I – _we_ will have a powerful movement to start with. And it will grow. Your attempts to work within the system fell on deaf ears among the bending elite, but the non-benders saw them. They have seen the hypocrisy of those in power. And they have been shown that they can and should want more. Which we will now give them. They will rally behind us.”

“Not to mention the weapons,” the Lieutenant added. “I’d hesitate to take on benders without your technology.”

Hiroshi shook his head and sighed heavily.

“This is not what I want,” he said. “But maybe… this is what I must do. Yasuko’s death has been avenged. But it will be hollow if we can’t prevent her fate from befalling others. I wish… it didn’t need to involve such drastic measures.”

“Every drastic measure we take is to make sure they are never needed again, Hiroshi,” Amon responded, his voice surprisingly gentle. “We will do what we have to do so that others do not. Our hands will be stained with the aftermath of the revolution, but we will pave the way for other non-benders to live in safety and equality. Sometimes, when a bone is broken, a healer needs to break it again in order to set it properly so it can mend. Some people will need to do terrible things so that no one else is ever forced to make that choice.”

The inventor rested his forehead against the glass.

“I need to… I need to think about it. I’ve learned a lot today. Too much for one day, perhaps. I cannot make a decision her and now.”

Amon shrugged. He had changed, for a time, while telling his story. Became more alive. Now, after putting his mask on again, he became as cold and unmoving as before. Every movement of his body was measured and conservative.

“That is your prerogative. But you should not take too long. Time is of the essence. My condition aside, we still have a lot of work to do before we can launch our revolution. And I don’t need to tell you that what you’ve heard must not leave the three of us.”

Hiroshi left in silence. He found Zia sitting in the dust-covered kitchen on the ground floor, clearly bored. However, she got up, with clear excitement on her face, upon seeing him.

“Mr. Hiroshi! You’re back. What did Amon tell you?”

Hiroshi sighed and looked at her with a tired expression on his face.

“I have learned much. Amon is everything he claims to be and more. He has great plans, and now I need to decide if they are to become my plans as well.”

“Well, that much was always obvious,” Zia said with a shrug. “A man like Amon won’t be content with being just a chi-blocker in our group. I’m assuming you can’t tell me what those plans are yet.”

“I cannot. I… have much to think about. We must leave now. It’s already late.”

Once the industrial tycoon was out of the room, Amon sat back down on his mat. The Lieutenant stood by the door.

“That was a story to remember,” he said. “I know better than to disbelieve you, of course. Do you think Hiroshi will come around?”

“I am confident he will. I have been plucking at the correct strings. He sees now that the time for action has come. Ga Min’s death was unexpected, but fortunate. I didn’t expect her to go so far as to get herself killed, but it unbalanced Hiroshi. He feels the need to rationalize her death, and if he does not go along with my plans, he will feel as though her death was for nothing.”

“It also means we’ll be spared some rumours about a woman who lost her bending,” the Lieutenant observed. “Just an earthbender too drunk to bend getting in a fight with some Agni Kais. Not an uncommon event in the poorer parts of the city, even if it doesn’t result in someone’s death that often.” He paused. “Did you have any part in this?”

“I have many ways of accomplishing our goals, but no. I did not arrange it. Manipulating triad members is beyond my reach… for now, at least. That said, it did not surprise me. Ga Min was a foolish woman, and losing her bending broke her. Now Hiroshi has an added motive. Let’s hope the rest of the Equalists fall in line. If Hiroshi supports us, it will mean a lot. The rest will be left for us to handle.”

* * *

 

The next day, Hiroshi once again met his daughter in the kitchen, during breakfast. It was a ritual of sorts for them, as his busy schedule often prevented him from seeing Asami. They cherished being able to talk in the morning. Now, however, dark clouds gathered over them both. Hiroshi was still conflicted over what Amon had told him. And now, it seemed, something disturbed Asami as well.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” he asked, adopting a veneer of calm. As always, he resolved to keep Asami out of his activities.

“I just read the news. There was a murder in one of the poor districts… it says the victim was an earthbender, called Ga Min. Wasn’t she-” Asami trailed off. Hiroshi’s blood froze. It was a while before he spoke. He had not expected Asami to find out. Foolish of him. She’d always been observant. Just like him… and Yasuko.

“The woman who killed your mother. Yes,” he said, tiredly. “I heard about it as well. It shook me up a bit. Reminded me of… well, what she’d done.” He sighed. “Her death was just as senseless as your mother’s had been. Foolishness, alcohol and bending.” The last word dripped with more anger than he had intended.

“Oh, dad,” Asami said with a sigh. “Now I wish you hadn’t seen this. Those memories… they never go away, do they?”

“They don’t.” Hiroshi sat down heavily. “It’s just our lot in life. Bending comes at a price. One that is paid by innocent bystanders, rather than the benders themselves.”

Asami was visibly worried now. Just what had set her father on this train of thought?

“What’s wrong, dad?”

Hiroshi waved his hand.

“Nothing. It’s just… I’m not getting any younger, and the world isn’t getting any better. Every now and then, it can overwhelm a man.”

Asami got off her chair and walked over to her father, embracing him.

“I wish I could help,” she said earnestly.

“Oh, you are helping,” Hiroshi assured. “Seeing you young and happy, following in my footsteps and embracing your passions… it helps me more than you can imagine.” That, at least, he spoke with honesty, from the depths of his heart.

“I love you, dad,” Asami said, spontaneously.

“I love you too, sweetie,” Hiroshi responded. Asami kissed him on the forehead and stepped back.

“I need to run now. I have an idea I want to try out and the workshop is going to be crowded later.”

Hiroshi chuckled.

“One day your inventions are going to surpass mine. Of what I’m sure,” he said as Asami departed. Once she was gone, he stared pensively through the kitchen window. Yes. Everything he would do would be for the sake of Yasuko’s memory and Asami’s future. She deserved a world where her brilliance, kind heart and ardent spirit would be allowed to flourish and reach their full potential, which he knew to be great.

* * *

 

After reaching his office, Hiroshi sat there in silence for a long while. One thing seemed clear to him: in order to make the great decision looming ahead of him, he would have to get back to the roots. Speak with his people. Would they approve of what Amon had in mind? He called for Petuwaq to come to the office.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Sato?” the secretary asked when he arrived at the office.

“Yes. I have a question. Can you remind me why you joined the Equalists?”

Petuwaq raised his eyebrow, confused, but answered the question.

“It was simple. My father couldn’t pay the Terra Triad’s protection money, so they made his bookstore collapse. And the Equalists felt like they were the only ones willing to do anything about it.”

“Ah, yes,” Hiroshi said, nodding. “We caught those who did it and made an example of them. It was a brazen attack, even for the triads. And then you decided to seek employment in Future Industries.”

“And I didn’t hesitate when I got the chance to work for the Eqalists, too,” Petuwaq said. “The Council wouldn’t do anything about it… still won’t. They’re stuck in the past. They haven’t noticed that bending isn’t what it used to be. That’s assuming it ever was the noble art that they say it was. I think it’s always been just something the strong used to lord it over the weak.”

Hiroshi nodded slowly.

“I suppose it has. Thank you, Petuwaq. You may go.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Sato. But… why did you ask me in the first place?”

“I found myself in the need of perspective,” Hiroshi said. “And reminding myself about why I started this movement. I can only do it by asking those I lead.”

* * *

 

“Why did I join?” Zia asked, confused. “I thought you knew, Mr. Hiroshi. But sure, I can remind you. Since the Earth King and the previous Avatar never bothered to disband the Dai Li, they started slowly creeping their way into the throne’s favour again. By the time Kuei was replaced by Hou-Ting, they’d pretty much regained their position as the power behind the throne. I wasn’t going to stand for that, so I left. The rest of the Kyoshi Warriors didn’t stick around for long after I’d left, too. Benders are never going to consider us equals unless we force them to.”

* * *

 

“I lost my job because of a bender,” said Minh, a rank-and-file Equalist training with one of Hiroshi’s shock-gloves – a short and stocky, but deceptively strong man. “I was a plumber, see, maintaining the water supply. But then some pencil-pusher in the city office figured that it’ll be easier to hire a waterbender for the position. So they did hire one and fired me, along with two other non-bending technicians. That’s not fair. Is it our fault we can’t bend? I just want to make an honest living, and if I need to shock some people first, then I guess that’s what I’ll do. Spirits bless you for inventing those gloves. I’m not cut out to be a chi-blocker.”

* * *

 

“It’s just so frustrating to see this city be run the way it is,” Hiroshi heard in response to his questioning from Audris, a tall, attractive young woman with brown, braided hair and pale skin, who handled communication and recruitment for the underground movement. “The Council is made up of benders from the other nations. They say their positions have nothing to do with bending, but we both know that’s nonsense. There’s this persistent idea in all the other nations that benders are just better at representing them. Besides, why should the Republic be run by foreign representatives? But when I and some others tried doing something about it, we just got a long lecture about tradition, harmony and the legacy of Avatar Aang. What did Aang know about running a country? Or the plight of the common people? The Council needs to go, and the Equalists are the only one to say it out loud.”

* * *

 

“My boyfriend was killed by a bender,” said Ka-Ling, a grim, serious man, tall and sporting a long, thin goatee, working on developing the Equalists’ weapons. “No, not a triad member, although his street was crawling with them. Just his stupid neighbour. They’d had an argument about him and his buddies getting rowdy late at night after a pro-bending match. Or something, I forget. Things got heated and Makittuq’s neighbour decided to use some firebending to scare him. And he used too much of it.” Ka-Ling stared at the disassembled shock-glove on the table in front of him. “And I keep thinking. Maybe if Makittuq had had one of those with him, he would still be alive?”

* * *

 

“I have an older sister,” recounted Mauja, one of Zia’s chi-blocking students, a seemingly meek woman of Water Tribe descent. “Unlike me, she’s a waterbender. We used to be close, but… she joined the Red Monsoons. Said they offer her better opportunities than anyone. Maybe she’s right, I don’t know. But ever since, she’s grown apart from me. I tried to talk to her, but their new friends in the triad didn’t like that. She’s always been a good bender, so I guess she was valuable to them. Eventually, she had to pick between me and them. She chose the latter. After that… I just felt I had to do something, you know? It’s not right for bending to tear a family apart like that.”

* * *

 

It was late evening when Hiroshi found Amon in one of the Equalist training facilities. This one was located in an old school, long since closed down. The industrialist was clearly tired, having not slept. Between inquiring his Equalists about their motives and pondering their answers, he found neither the time nor the ability to sleep.

The masked man stood in a doorway, surveying a group of chi-blockers being instructed by Zia. When Hiroshi approached, he spoke nonchalantly, as though he was picking up a conversation that had been interrupted moments ago.

“She is the most skilled chi-blocker I have ever seen. The Earth Queen was a fool to discard the Kyoshi Warriors in favour of the Dai Li.”

“Her abilities have been of great service to us, indeed,” Hiroshi said, for lack of anything else. “As I recall, she wished to speak with you. Perhaps test herself against you, even.”

“I would be happy to oblige. But first, Hiroshi… I need to know what your decision is. What future do you have in mind for this movement, and what place do I have in it?”

Hiroshi sighed heavily.

“You… were right. There is a flaw in this city, this nation and the whole world, that none of my efforts can set right. We need something more powerful. We need… you.”

Amon remained immobile, and when he spoke, his voice betrayed no satisfaction or mirth – merely an acknowledgement of Hiroshi’s correct decision.

“That is good. Together, we will make this group into what it could have been all along. Now you must send the word. The Equalists need to be informed of the new leadership. There is much work to be done.”

He turned around to look at Hiroshi.

“The revolution begins here. Its beginnings are humble, but most great things begin in such a manner.”


	9. People and Machines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got over my hangups about writing Asami in this chapter - much as I like her, I felt very unsure about my ability to give her more spotlight. Readers will no doubt notice more subtle changes that might have serious consequences later on. We also get a fight scene. It may seem random and gratuitous, but I just wanted to show off the two fighters' styles.

After the training session was finished, Zia approached Hiroshi and Amon, who had been watching in silence for a while. Amon had made a promise to meet Zia in person, after all, and he was a man of his word. The former Kyoshi Warrior was dressed in a grey training uniform.

“Mr. Hiroshi,” the chi-blocker greeted the Equalist leader. “And Amon. It’s an honour to finally meet you in person. You and our leader seem to be getting along.” She extended her arm to him.

“We are indeed, Zia,” Amon responded, shaking Zia’s hand briefly. He rarely moved more than he strictly needed to. “Hiroshi agreed to commit his resources to my plans.”

Hiroshi nodded. He still looked distracted and faraway, but he felt better. He’d made his decision – now he simply had to see it through. A weight had been lifted from him.

“Indeed. Amon convinced me that his ideas align with the Equalists’ goals, and that we can benefit from working together. We will need to discuss how to split leadership between the two of us. But that will come later.”

“The troops have been talking,” Zia remarked. “An official statement would ease their minds. Put an end to all the gossip.”

“We will address the Equalists directly soon enough,” Amon said. “I will explain everything. But for now… I believe that you expressed a wish to test your skill against mine.”

“Damn right I do,” Zia responded, grinning. “They say you’re like no other chi-blocker. Only one way to see if it’s true.”

“Indeed.” Amon straightened his shoulders and strode into the training hall. “Clear a space, everyone. What are your terms, Zia?”

“We fight until one of us is on the floor or yields,” the instructor said, standing in the middle of the hall and assuming a stance. Amon faced her, but his stance was relaxed and casual. He simply nodded and waited for her move.

Zia circled Amon slowly, his stillness surprising her somewhat. Finally, she struck – lunging forward, she closed the distance between them and aimed a series of rapid jabs and punches at his arms and shoulders. They were not intended to hit, merely check his defences and build up momentum.

Amon’s response was to back away, performing a series of small, narrow dodges and blocks. He moved out of the way of Zia’s punches or intercepted them and redirected them slightly to the side. After stemming the woman’s advance this way, he aimed several extremely precise jabs at her elbows, shoulders and stomach.

Zia was surprised by Amon’s fighting style. The chi-blockers had trained with each other and the shock weapon-wielding Equalists, in order to avoid being unfamiliar with fighting other non-benders. But the masked man’s methods were like nothing she’d seen before. It felt as though he hardly moved at all, but her attacks struck air or were deflected. His prediction of her movements bordered on precognition. His flow from one form and stance to another seemed effortless. He wasn’t just a chi-blocker. What he was doing was… something else. Something more, perhaps.

However, it took more than an unfamiliar, strangely effective fighting style to get the better of Zia. The former Kyoshi Warrior threw her body to the side when Amon launched his attack, rolling out of the way of the jabs. She then got back to her feet like an uncoiling spring, aiming a sweeping kick at Amon’s arms. She intended to knock them out of the way and leave him open for further attacks.

Once more, Amon reacted so quickly that it seemed he had seen the attack coming in advance. He leaned back and executed a vicious, precise jab at the leg, just below the knee. Zia staggered as numbness spread towards her leg, but she turned her fall into a spin, nimbly stepping away from Amon. She then began to circle him slowly, waiting for feeling to return to her leg.

But this time Amon chose to go on the offensive. He rushed forward, attacking Zia with a series of rapid, precise blows of his hands. However, Zia was not taken by surprise, nor was she unprepared for the assault. She somersaulted above Amon’s head, launching a sweeping kick at his legs as she landed. The masked fighter stumbled back slightly as he turned to face his opponent and avoided the knock-down manoeuvre. To see Amon’s momentum actually staggered and thrown off was shocking to the onlookers. Zia grinned and pressed her advantage with another sweeping kick and a series of punches to his right arm.

Her opening lasted only for a moment, however. Amon fluidly stepped out of the way of the attack and brought his hand down on Zia’s hand. Numbness spread through it, and the chi-blocker hissed. She didn’t back down, however, instead shifting her posture and performing a spinning kick with her right leg, followed by an uppercut with her right arm, once again pushing Amon back.

The battle went on like this. Amon was incredibly quick and seemed to predict Zia’s actions with enormous alacrity. His own movements were sparse and controlled, but precise and sudden. He flowed around attacks and responded with surgically precise counters. Zia, to contrast, was aggressive and forceful. She spun and jumped around Amon, raining blows upon him. She proved a match for him, but more often than not, she was on the defensive, and eventually began to tire. In a battle of attrition, Amon would outlast her. Eventually, Zia stopped and raised her hand.

“That’s enough,” she said, breathing heavily. “You really are good. I’ve never seen anyone fight like you do. It felt like you saw my attacks before I made them.”

“Nothing so outlandish, Zia,” Amon said. If he was tired by the fight, he did not show it. “The human body is a complex system of intricate connections and dependencies, both material and spiritual. Someone with a deep understanding of the flow and balance of the body can predict how it will move faster than any martial artist.”

“That explains your performance against those Agni Kais you fought,” Zia said. “People said they’d never stood a chance. You might even be a match for Zolt,” she added, touching her scar. “I almost had him, but I had no idea it was possible for a firebender to generate lightning so quickly. He nearly fried me right there.”

“The art of lightning generation has certainly spread,” Amon observed. “But while many firebenders can produce lightning, only a few can do so as quickly as members of the Fire Nation royal family, making it such a lethal tool. Lightning Bolt Zolt is one of them. And yet, he uses it to bully and threaten defenceless non-benders. Such is the true face of the ancestral art of the Fire Nation.”

A murmur of assent went through the ranks of the chi-blockers. They certainly shared the sentiment.

“So is what you just said how you can take away bending? Will you take Zolt’s bending, too? There’s few people in the city who deserve it more,” a young, hot-headed man said. The other chi-blockers once again nodded their agreement.

“Eventually,” Amon said. “You need to understand, all of you, that once the news of my power spread, once I reveal it to everyone… there will be no turning back. It will mean war. I will not do it until I am sure we can win it.”

The chi-blockers nodded, understanding.

“So now, I will depart with Hiroshi to make plans for just that. Go back to your training. You will -make full use of it before long. That I promise you. But before that…” He looked across the crowd of students, Zia and Hiroshi. “I will be giving a speech tomorrow evening. It’s been a while since I addressed the Equalists this way. And I invite you all to be there. That includes you, Hiroshi.”

Hiroshi stroked his beard.

“Well… I suppose I’ll be able to make it there, if I’m lucky. I’ll have to come up with an excuse so as to avoid suspicion… but I should be able to make it.”

* * *

 

Hiroshi returned home, thinking about how to explain his absence. It was getting harder, he knew. He’d always had a hands-off approach to leading the Equalists, since he had a reputation to maintain, and couldn’t raise suspicion. But dealing with Amon required him to leave at strange hours. He knew it wouldn’t be long before people became concerned. Especially Asami.

As if the universe at large responded to his guilt over lying to his daughter, Hiroshi was greeted by an unusual sight as he drove his satomobile onto the grounds of his mansion. The courtyard was a construction side. Asami was hard at work putting together a strange, long frame out of wood, canvas and rubber. It had wings, and somewhat resembled an airbender glider in construction.

“Asami? What… what are you doing with all this?” he asked, bemused.

“Oh, hi dad!” Asami said, looking up from tying several ropes together at the base of the construction. Then she looked around with embarrassment. “Sorry about the mess. But none of the available workshops were big enough.”

“Might as well use this courtyard for something,” Hiroshi said, jokingly. The mansion was Yasuko’s idea. She had always had more of an appreciation for luxury that he had. If it had been up to him, their home would have been smaller. He certainly didn’t mind it, though. “Is that what I think t is? A flying machine?”

Asami nodded, grinning. “It is! I know it’s been tried before, but could never be made to work. But two days ago I saw Councilman Tenzin give his children gliding lessons, and I just felt like I’d love to fly too.”

“Well, the Mechanist did come up with gliders by the end of the War,” Hiroshi pointed out.

“Oh, I know. I’m working on those principles. But those didn’t really fly, not like the airbenders do. We need a non-bending means of propulsion.”

“That has always been the problem,” Hiroshi said, pacing around the contraption. A sleek, minimalistic shape. More reminiscent of Yasuko’s designs than his. “Any engine that could conceivably lift a machine is too heavy to actually fly. How do you plan to solve it?”

“I have some ideas. As I told you, I got the idea while watching airbenders. They fly by bending the air around them. I need to do something similar. Something to move the air around the machine. If I keep working on it, I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

Hiroshi smiled, broadly. “I’m sure you will. I’ll look forward to seeing your progress.” Asami’s approach to design had been so far brilliant, but scatter-brained. She could rarely stay concentrated on a project for long. However, this time it felt different. She had a passion about her that reminded him of himself when he worked on the satomobile. “Don’t worry about the courtyard. We can have it cleaned up later. I’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon, but I trust you not to make too much of a mess.” And here it was. After a relaxed moment of enjoying his daughter’s work, the other half of his life was back.

Asami sighed. “You’re running yourself ragged, dad,” she said. Fortunately, she didn’t seem interested in the exact reason for his absence. “You need to take a break now and then.”

“I know, Asami. I know. But the automotive market is getting more and more competitive. Cabbage Corp is flooding the market with cheap products. I need to make sure we stay ahead of them.” As usual, he coated the lies with just enough truth to make them easy to swallow.

His daughter nodded glumly, then brightened up. “Well, I know just the thing to help you relax. How about we go see a pro-bending match next week? The finals are approaching and everyone is so excited.”

Hiroshi faltered for a moment. He’d never been a fan of pro-bending. It felt like a mindless sort of entertainment, glorifying shallow, showy bending athletes. It was also uncomfortable to watch non-benders idolize them. But as he looked at Asami’s earnest face, he found it impossible to say no to her. And she was right. They had hardly seen each other for a while now. What use would a revolution be if he couldn’t enjoy spending time with his own child?

“Of course. It won’t be any problem to arrange my schedule. And it’ll be good for us to go out together. Good luck with your machine, darling.”

* * *

 

The old, abandoned clubhouse now held rows upon rows of Equalists, steaded on chairs, stools and benches. They were all waiting for Amon to appear on what once served as the stage for bands that played in the establishment. Hiroshi himself was seated comfortably near the back of the room. He did not wish to draw undue attention to himself.

The murmurs and mutters audible throughout the room ceased abruptly when Amon took the stage. Hiroshi had never witnessed him speak before, but it was obvious he was at home there. Even if he did not have the power to take bending away, his speeches could galvanize people.

“Good evening, my fellow Equalists,” he said, taking up the microphone. “I am glad to see so many of you here tonight. Our movement is growing, and it will soon grow beyond anything the benders could possibly hope to contain.”

“I certainly appreciate that you have chosen to come here, rather than watch tonight’s pro-bending match,” Amon then added. Hiroshi stirred. He had not expected the masked man to talk about… sport.

“Pro-bending has certainly gained a lot of popularity in these past few years, hasn’t it? It is now the most prominent sport of the United Republic, and Republic City in particular. All the other disciplines have fallen to the wayside… practiced and followed by enthusiasts. Pro-bending is a sport for the masses. And what does that tell us?”

No one could question that. But few in the crowd had any idea where Amon was going with this. Hiroshi certainly did not.

“The premier entertainment of our nation revolves around bending. Bending athletes fighting other bending athletes, and being idolized for it. But while benders can dream about joining a pro-bending team and becoming famous themselves, where does it leave us non-benders? Worshipping people that the society already puts above us?”

He paused for another moment, as if letting his listeners digest it. He paced up and down the stage.

“This way, non-benders of this city are taught to admire and cheer for something they can never be. It might not look like it, but it’s an insidious way of instilling inferiority in us non-benders. We’re told to cheer for pro-benders while remaining satisfied that we can never be like them. It’s yet another path closed to us. If even the city’s favourite sport belongs to benders and benders alone, what does that say about how society treats non-benders?”

Hiroshi was feeling very uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and loosened his collar. Just the day before he had agreed to go with Asami to a pro-bending match. Was he, then, participating in an event that humiliated non-benders like him? He took a deep breath to calm himself down and kept listening to Amon.

“But that is simply the order of the society that we live in. The one the great Avatars built for us. The only real opposition to pro-bending comes from the conservative benders, who go on about how it’s a shallow mockery of the noble bending traditions. I truly do not see how it’s different from the position bending has always held in human society. A tool for the strong to keep the weak in their place. We should not stand for it any more than we stand for the triads’ violence or the outright discrimination of non-benders in the army and police. It might not harm us directly, but it keeps us down all the same.”

An indignant murmur went through the crowd. The Equalists were either riled up, agreeing with Amon’s accusation wholeheartedly, or guilty, like Hiroshi. But none felt confident enough to challenge Amon. To do so would be to contradict the message they bought into, that benders kept them down and oppressed them. Amon simply listed another way in which they did so – just one that they had never considered before. Pro-bending was just a game… but maybe that was what made it so dangerous.

“What should we do about it, you might ask? Right now, all we can do is not support it. We should not go on pro-bending matches, buy merchandise or partake in the personality cult grown around those people. Eventually, the sport will need to be exposed for what it is and put in its place. But we cannot do it yet. A struggle for equality is a long and difficult process. Sacrifices always need to be made. Let us not lose sight of that.”

Hiroshi nodded absently to no one in particular. Yes, sacrifices needed to be made. And one such sacrifice was pretending to share Asami’s enthusiasm. Not only would it deflect suspicion off him, but it would make her happy. And her happiness was the most important thing in his world. Eventually, she would understand. But not yet.

* * *

 

The appearance of Hiroshi Sato and his daughter on a pro-bending match caused a bit of a stir. People were used to seeing Asami there, but Hiroshi had never attended them before. He smiled and waved towards cameras. Much as he disliked that particular brand of journalism, he’d had to put up with it ever since making his fortune. And after founding the Equalists, he had to put on another mask for the public.

“Mister Sato!” A particularly pushy journalist managed to get through the crowd and ask him a direct question. “You’ve never attended a pro-bending match before. Why the sudden change of heart, especially given your anti-bender sentiments?”

“I am here on my daughter’s invitation,” Hiroshi responded, smiling pleasantly at the self-important, inquisitive man. “The supposed anti-bender sentiments that the press continues to ascribe to me have nothing to do with it. Pro-bending is a sport, and I am merely here to enjoy it.”

“No matter what Tarrlok says, ‘non-bender’ does not mean ‘Equalist’,” Asami said, incensed, as they walked away from the reporters.

“I swear, it’s like all the press is dancing to his tune nowadays,” she went on as she ascended the stairs to the viewing booth Hiroshi had reserved. “He’s trying to paint all non-benders who aren’t happy with how things are as Equalist sympathizers.”

“Tarrlok’s short-sighted pride will be his own undoing,” Hiroshi remarked conciliatorily. “He’s growing too bold, and it won’t be long before he gets in over his head. For now, let’s forget about that odious upstart and enjoy the game.”

Asami smiled and nodded in agreement. As the small family sat down on their chairs, Hiroshi surveyed the pro-bending arena. He had never been inside before, but now he had a good view from the VIP booth. An elevated platform above a pool of water, surrounded by spectators. Earth discs for the earthbenders and running water for the waterbenders. Firebenders needed no props. Of course, airbenders were too few in number to participate, and only one of them was old enough. Besides, it was common knowledge that Councilman Tenzin greatly disapproved of pro-bending. He did so steadfastly hold on to the so-called traditions of bending.

Then, the teams were delivered onto the arena by lifts. On one side, the Wulong Armadillo Lions, a new team that quickly ascended through the ranks. On the other, the White Falls Wolfbats, the reigning champions. The latter team received a much more powerful applause. They were, evidently, popular. Asami did not seem to share the enthusiasm, however.

“I don’t like them,” she said in response to Hiroshi’s quirked eyebrow. “They’re great players, but… the image they cultivate puts me off. Their waterbender, Tahno, is the most arrogant bully you’ll ever meet.”

Hiroshi nodded, satisfied. His daughter was too smart to get fully caught up in this sham. Perhaps showing her the truth of it would not be difficult. For now, he did his best to concentrate on the game with the air of a dignified man of society. The game began and the Armadillo Lions quickly gained the advantage. It appeared as though the champions would lose this match, but they regained their momentum soon enough.

Soon, however, he began to notice an irregularity. It was subtle, but his trained engineering eye could spot such disruptions with great precision. The Wolfbats were cheating. Hiroshi had studied the rules of the game following Asami’s invitation and they were breaking them. Only firebenders were allowed headshots, and yet the Wolfbat waterbender and earthbender would sometimes strike at their enemies’ heads, in conjunction with their waterbenders’ more legal moves, so as to make it unclear what had really happened. Likewise, both waterbenders and firebenders were forbidden from projecting blasts of water or fire for longer than a second, thus restricting them to short whips and bursts. However, the Wolfbats would prolong their attacks for a second more, forcing their opponents backwards and off-balance – perfectly setting them up for a legal attack to knock them back a zone. Hiroshi even thought he saw Tahno – whose appearance and behaviour inclined him to think Asami had been overly charitable in her description – bend water into ice under his opponents’ feet from time to time, bending it back into a liquid quickly enough for it to be hard to notice.

It was, Hiroshi had to admit, skilfully done. The Wolfbats did not openly flaunt the rules, but skirted them just enough to give themselves an advantage. Nonetheless, if he could catch them red-handed, it was virtually impossible for it to have escaped the judges’ notice. Which meant the judges were ignoring it. And that would mean the entire sport was a sham on a rather large scale. Which would make it even worse than Amon claimed. Did Amon know, come to think of it? Hiroshi decided to ask him at some point.

In the present, he watched the game impassively and conversed with Asami in the breaks. She appeared unaware of the Wolfbats’ cheating.

“They’re jerks, but they do put on a good show,” she conceded as they made their way back home. “I do hope someone wins the championship from them this year or the next, though. It’s dull to watch them win all the time. And it makes some people say the whole thing is set up. They might be right,” she said sadly.

“What makes you say so?” Hiroshi asked cautiously as he got into the car.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them use illegal moves,” Asami said as they drove away. “But the judges either said nothing or decided in their favour. I don’t like what this suggests.”

“I don’t really know,” her rather responded, although internally, he was both glad and concerned. “It’s the first match I saw, after all. If you suspect something like that, I encourage you to be careful. Don’t rush into anything. Observe and try to spot the threads. There’s a lot of money involved in pro-bending, and if there really is corruption, the people responsible won’t take it lightly.”

Asami was silent for a while.

“I know, dad. Waging a personal crusade against cheating at sports is pretty ridiculous. But it’s not fair to all the people who get excited about it. What happened to this city? It’s either corruption, or the Equalists.” She sighed. “I’m going to get back to my flying machine tomorrow. Machines are easier to deal with.”

“That they are,” Hiroshi said, nodding. It was certainly true. But he no longer had the option of only caring about his machines and his family. Then again, if Amon was willing to take the reins of the Equalists… that would be one of the benefits. He could take a backseat.

Hiroshi wasn’t sure what prompted him to dust off some old blueprints of his later that evening. It was Amon’s talk of a revolution, perhaps. The idea had been discarded as too large-scale and destructive for the Equalists’ vigilante action. But if there was to be a war… on the other hand, that was hardly the only problem with the design. Hiroshi simply could not afford to build it in secret, and he lacked a key component. Nonetheless, he decided to show it to Amon, just to see what he thought about it.

* * *

 

“I received your message, Hiroshi,” Amon said, entering one of the secret Equalist weapon labs with the Lieutenant following closely. “It appears you wanted to present an invention of yours?”

“I’m not sure if I’d call it an invention. It’s just a design. But yes,” Hiroshi responded, nodding. “It’s good to have you here as well, Lieutenant. This might use the expertise of a military man.”

Without further introduction, Hiroshi pointed the two men to the blueprint pinned to a nearby drawing board. It showed a large machine, composed of a one-person cabin resting on heavy tank treads. The cabin was equipped with a pair of powerful arms. Notes, references and cross-sections showed that the machine had been intended to be driven by a single pilot, and that the arms were equipped with a variety of weapons. It was equipped with a powerful engine.

“That is an interesting design,” Lieutenant remarked. “It’s like the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom tanks. Except it’s smaller.”  


Hiroshi nodded. “Quite. And equipped with non-bending weapons. All in all, I think it promises to make things significantly more equal against more powerful benders.”

“But it’s still in design stage,” Amon pointed out.

“Well, yes. There are problems. The first is with supplies. It would be very expensive to build even one of those, by any of my estimates. It might not be such a problem if I didn’t have to do it in secret. But as things are, I doubt I would be able to build many of those before someone noticed that I’m spending vast sums on something.”

“So it would still be possible to build some. What, then, are the other reasons?”

“There are two of them. First, I deemed it too much of an escalation for what we’ve been doing so far. That might no longer be an issue, given your plans. But the other, bigger reason, is the impracticality of fielding those in a city which employs an entire police force of metalbenders.”

“He’s right,” Lieutenant said, nodding. “One of Beifong’s metalbenders could open one of those like a tin can if they got close enough.”

“Indeed. So far, we’ve avoided clashing with them. But I have a feeling that at the point we fielded such machines, it would no longer be possible.”

Amon looked at the blueprints for a while, resting his hands on the board.

“You wouldn’t present me with this problem if you didn’t have some solutions in mind, Hiroshi,” he said, matter-of-factly. “So let’s hear them.”

Hiroshi was uncertain for a few moments. When he spoke, his voice was uncertain.

“There is one thing that could work. The Earth Queen had her engineers design a metal that is immune to metalbending. As I understand it, it admixtures the steel with other minerals to create an alloy which their bending cannot affect. It’s all about impurities in the metal, you see. The process her engineers developed removes them. The resulting metal isn’t significantly different from regular steel… except for being unaffected by metalbending. Of course, the cost of production is significantly higher.”

“Why did the Earth Queen need such a material?” Lieutenant asked with raised eyebrows. Hiroshi shrugged.

“I believe she takes it an affront that the United Republic makes such wide-spread use of the art she believes to be the heritage of the Earth Kingdom. You know how childish that woman is. But for once, her fits of temper might be useful. I have received information that the royal engineers are going to come to the Earth Kingdom embassy in a week’s time. They will have the metal with them. If we could get the schematic and some samples, I should be able to reverse-engineer it.”

“But you haven’t done it yet,” Amon pointed out.

“I’ve tried different ways, but the schematics and the metal itself are guarded jealously. The only way remaining is simply stealing it. And that’s a complicated operation in more ways than one.”

“Complicated, maybe, but not impossible,” Lieutenant said. “We do have a group of skilled and determined people at our disposal. I doubt many of them will blanch at the prospect of stealing from the Earth Queen, either. Everyone knows how she treats her subjects.”

“It would, however, be a diplomatic incident waiting to happen,” Hiroshi pointed out. “Robbing the embassy of the Earth Queen in Republic City? She would be livid.”

Lieutenant shrugged dismissively.

“That would be the Council’s problem, not ours. We’re anonymous and can’t be brought to any sort of trial… that’s presuming they were to find out we did it. So it’d be the Council who would have to deal with the situation. They could use a real job to do for once, instead of sitting there like stuffed cat owls.”

“It will be dangerous, no doubt,” Amon said. He had been silent for a while. “But as I said, Hiroshi… sacrifices will need to be made. And risks will need to be taken. Nothing less will do to bring our world equality. We need the best weapons we can muster, so we’ll do what we need to do in order to build them.”

“I will lead the team,” Lieutenant said. “We need the best for this, and I have experience with such operations. I’ll take three or four people with me. Not chi-blockers. If we use them, we might as well leave a note that the Equalists did it.”

Hiroshi was silent for a while, his thoughts racing. He didn’t expect Amon and Lieutenant to enact this plan so quickly… or did he? He wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe he had been naïve. If the revolution was to happen, drastic steps would need to be taken. And, really… the technology would be better used by the Equalists than to feed the Earth Queen’s ego.

“Very well. I’ll leave it to your expertise, Lieutenant,” he simply said. “I will be ready for when you deliver the materials and plans, to begin development as quickly as possible. It will take time nonetheless.”

“We are operating on a largely unknown timetable,” Amon pointed out. “But it can’t be helped. We must simply adapt. If the machines can’t be finished by the time the Avatar arrives here, we will adjust. Meanwhile, I will direct the ire of our followers towards the Earth Queen in preparation for the robbery. She deserves it in any case, since she’s an imbecile ruling by inheritance and the Dai Li thugs. And as I told you, this revolution will happen in the hearts and minds as much as it will on the streets.”


	10. The Embassy Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was, I must say, the most challenging one of them all. It's a single scene happening in a single place. The pacing is entirely different. But I persevered, since it was quite necessary. We meet some old acquaintances here.

 To The Earth Kingdom embassy in Republic City was a massive, lavishly decorated building in the government district. It stood by itself in the middle of a large garden, which was surrounded by a tall, metal fence. The building was wide and short, with thick walls and sloped roof. The general style resembled that of the inner circle of Ba Sing Se, although the windows were smaller and there were many foreboding statues on the walls and corners.

It was no doubt meant to give off the impression of wealth and authority. Instead, it mostly gave the impression of poor taste and wasted money. The Earth Queen’s attitude towards the United Republic was cold, bordering on outright hostility. She still considered the lands it covered as having been “stolen” from her nation and only maintained an embassy, she claimed, out of necessity. Thus, the embassy was an unfriendly, highly secure building. During the day, the citizens of Republic City conducted their business there under the suspicious stares of the guards, some of whom were rumoured to be incognito Dai Li agents.

Now, however, it was night. The embassy was dark and quiet, save for the occasional light and constant quiet sound as the guards made their rounds. The outside of the embassy was also relatively quiet, by Republic City standards. All quiet, except for a group of four people wearing grey overalls and flat caps of matching colour as well as burdened by heavy bags. A night shift cleaning crew, it seemed. They were led by a tall, broad-shouldered man with an impressive beard and braided hair. He was followed by a shorter, lankier man with a long grey moustache and wrinkled face, wearing large glasses. Next to the old man walked two women, whose resemblance suggested a blood relation. They were both dark-skinned, of Water Tribe descent. They were of similar heights, but one of them was muscular, whereas the other one was curvy and soft around the edges. The hair of the former woman was short and hidden by the cap, but her sister’s ponytail was visible.

The cleaning crew approached the gate of the embassy, where they were stopped by a guard in an Earth Kingdom soldier uniform.

“Papers,” she said gruffly. It was her third night shift and she was too tired to be verbose. The examined the documents presented to her by the cleaning crew. Everything seemed to check out and she certainly wasn’t going to prolong an encounter that actually required her to concentrate. The cleaning crews changed all the time, anyway. It was rare if any came more than once. A cost-cutting measure, since most of the funding disappeared somewhere. Someone knew where, presumably, but it was information above her pay grade. So she opened the gate for the cleaners and directed them to the service entrance. Then she went back to pacing around the grounds in an effort not to fall asleep. She knew the embassy employed many guards. So why were they stretched so thin that she had to pull three long night shifts in a row? She really should have listened to her father and found work as a private bodyguard… or a sculptor. Being a soldier certainly wasn’t what it was cracked up to be.

* * *

 

The cleaning crew, meanwhile, walked along the wall of the embassy and got to the back, where they entered the building through a small door designated for “servants”, as it said on the plaque. The other guards patrolling the grounds paid them no attention. They found themselves in a narrow corridor, full of stale air and only lit by two weak, bare light bulbs. The walls were lined with wet cardboard boxes, old cleaning tools and discarded clothes. Exposed pipes ran along the walls, leaking water here and there.

“Charming,” said the taller, more muscular woman quietly. “The richer the front of a building, the more disgusting the rear part is going to be. Never fails to be true.”

“It works in our favour,” the old man, who was actually Amon’s Lieutenant, remarked. “No one is going to come in here unless they absolutely have to. So we have some time.”

“They’re going to catch on eventually,” the bearded man pointed out. “They don’t care now, but they will once we start poking around. And those papers won’t fool them once they do. We know one of the objects we’re after is on the second floor, and the other one in the cellar. So what’s our plan of action?”

“We should be able to get upstairs easily enough,” Lieutenant said, shouldering his bag again. “Maybe do some actual cleaning to keep up appearances. We’ve seen people don’t pay attention to the cleaners here. But I doubt our disguises will last after we break into the safe, so we’ll use this part of the building to get to the cellar.”

The rest of the crew nodded. The four-person team had been put together for the purpose of infiltrating the Earth Kingdom embassy and stealing the metalbending-resistant material, and the schematics for it. They were not high-ranking Equalists, but they had unique assets for this task. Tozan, the bearded man, worked as a cleaner as well. He was hired once by the embassy, and in the end, he was lucky to get half the money he was owed, after weeks of arguing and letter-sending. The upside of the whole thing was that he had a good idea of what the inside of the embassy looked like, and could get them in touch with another cleaning company that was down enough on its luck to take out a contract with the embassy. Bribing them was easy enough, since it meant guaranteed money – something they couldn’t be sure of if they’d done the job. Apart from his knowledge, Tozan’s other asset was his prodigious strength.

Puja and Iqualuq were two young women from a very bad part of town. Growing up on a street all but owned by the Red Monsoons, two non-benders had to do what it took to survive. They were drawn to the Equalist movement by the promise of a world where they won’t have to steal for a living. And where the Triads will be taught their place. There were not the only criminals in the Equalist ranks, but they were the best at what they did. Puja was a security expert, able to pick locks with ease, crack safes bypass other safety measures. Iqualuq could move undetected like few others, and was a master at throwing knives and darts. Their talents at breaking, entering and quietly removing guards would be crucial to the mission.

Lieutenant led them up the service staircase towards the first floor. It was a dull place, filled with identical corridors lined with door to small offices where the embassy’s clerks handled the many papers which came through the building. There, the Equalists briefly occupied themselves with actual cleaning – with Tozan directing the others to make sure they didn’t mess it up too badly. It was partly in order to familiarize themselves with the layout, but also to ease any suspicion on the part of the guards. Predictably enough, there were a few of them making rounds on the first floor. Not too many, however – which might have been a sign that the things considered to be really important were above and below. They all watched them with an air of disinterest.

After spending some time on the first floor, the fake cleaning crew slipped back into the service area and made their way up another flight of stairs, to reach the second floor. Someone might have started to suspected them at that point, so they had to hurry. Emerging from the stairway, the team found themselves in a narrow corridor, similar to those on the lower floors. This time, however, they were not alone there. Two people were standing in front of a door at the very end of it. They were both wearing metal breastplates and helmets that concealed most of their faces. They stared at the cleaners without hostility, but with a clear implication that they should not stay there for too long.

It was clear, now, that what the Equalists were looking for was located there. They had no choice but to take out the guards. They began to move towards the exit from the corridor, in order to ascertain whether a patrol was nearby. Luckily enough, it wasn’t. Iqualuq reached under her overalls and snapped around in a flash. Two thin daggers flew out of their hand, one aimed at each of the guards. She was skilful enough to strike the points on their bodies that weren’t covered by the metal armour – their elbows. The guards raised their hands in order to bend at the sudden attackers, but then they collapsed in a heap, affected by the powerful knock-out poison the knives had been coated in.

The intruders acted quickly. Lieutenant and Tozan tied up the guards and gagged them, hurrying to finish the work before the poison wore off. Ropes would not necessarily stop skilled benders from using their powers, but they would at least slow them down. Meanwhile, Puja quickly rifled through their pockets for a key.

The door was opened quickly and the guards dragged inside. The room beyond was very small, and had no features of note, other than a strong safe. Puja immediately went to work on it, while the other three Equalists exited the room, and pretended to busy themselves with their cleaning equipment after leaving the guards in the safe room. Hopefully the time it took a patrol or change of guard to make sure they’re impostors would give them an edge. Lieutenant took a moment to produce a pair of wooden sticks from his bag and hide them under his overalls. They were the original weapons of his homeland’s martial art, without electricity. Using shock weapons would be a sure sign of who was responsible for the burglary.

And in fact, two guards did arrive on the scene. These were clad in more standard Earth Kingdom uniforms, and were part of a regular patrol. They looked at each other in surprise when they noticed the absence of the other guards.

“Hey, you!” one of them yelled at the trio. “Where are guards who were here?”

“How are we supposed to know?” Tozan asked, looking up from cleaning a part of the floor. “We’re just cleaning here. They went off somewhere. We don’t ask questions of them.”

“What the- just went off somewhere? Look- just get over here and show me your papers. Right now,” the guard retorted angrily.

Lieutenant nodded slightly to Tozan and they both approached the guards while Iqualuq remained back. The air was thick with tension, but the guards, although they were vigilant, could not expect what would happen next. As Tozan neared the guard, he launched himself at her instead, moving with speed that was truly astonishing for a man of his girth. The guard was simply thrown off her feet at the opposite wall. Meanwhile, Lieutenant, who had reached under his overalls as if to produce documentation, retrieved one of his sticks instead, lunging towards the other guard and interrupting his attempt to bend and scream alarm with a well-timed thrust to the solar plexus, and an upswing that caught him on the chin. Leaving the man temporarily helpless on the ground, dazed and out of breath, he jumped over him and delivered a good bump on the head to the other guard, who was trying to get up after being thrown by Tozan.

Lieutenant looked around as his large companion hauled the guards into the corridor. They had not managed to sound an alarm, but the racket they made was probably audible throughout the entire building. He ran back towards the safe room.

“Please tell me you cracked-” he began to say, but he was interrupted when Puja emerged quickly from the room, holding a binder and slamming the door behind her.

“I’ve got it. The schematics. That means the sample of the metal is in the cellar.”

“Move!”

* * *

 

The Equalists ran swiftly down the service stairway. The bags with cleaning supplies had been abandoned, after removing the concealed weapons and tools from them. Their cover was well and truly blown, and from now on they would need to evade and fight any guards they encountered. They also pulled balaclavas over their faces, to minimize the chances of someone remembering them. Before they ran down, Puja stopped to put a metal bar onto the door, to make opening it difficult. It appeared to have worked, as they heard banging and shouting from upstairs just as they neared the bottom floor.

The service corridor on the ground floor was empty. However, after opening the door to the embassy proper, they were greeted by a flying rock on head level. Lieutenant bent his head just enough for it to miss him, while the rest of the Equalists simply hit the floor, startled and not as used to combat as he was. Lieutenant lunged through the door, immediately inclining to the right to avoid yet another piece of rock, launched by an Earth Kingdom guard behind the door. He was using small, but dense stone discs, presumably not to tear up the embassy floor. This concern evidently evaporated when the guard saw the armed man launch himself towards him, however. He stomped his foot to cause a section of the floor rise in a wall, making a huge mess of the carpeting. Lieutenant did not stop, but merely weaved his way around the wall and tried to strike the earthbender with his sticks. However, his advance was more successfully stopped by a pillar of rock erupting horizontally from the wall.

Lieutenant barely evaded being brained. In such close quarters, surrounded by stone walls and floors, an earthbender was at a distinct advantage. However, at that point Iqualuq got up from the floor, no longer threatened by enemy attacks, and sent a knife at the bender. It struck him just above the elbow. Not a serious injury, but a painful one. And it interrupted his momentum for long enough that Lieutenant closed his distance and put him on the ground with a series of rapid attacks.

Once the guard was unconscious, the Equalists rushed down the corridor, to the right from the door they entered through. The entrance to the cellar would be somewhere in that direction. The sounds of alarm and hurried footsteps were coming from all directions now. Luckily, they were still disorganized. The Equalists still had time before a proper defence was mounted.

As they turned around a corner to the left, they were greeted by a barrage of  small rock missiles. The two guards stationed in front of the stairs to the cellar had attacked them immediately. Unlike most Earth Kingdom soldiers, they relied on a rapid series of small rocks. One of them caught Iqualuq in the shoulder, knocking her backwards and sending pain through her arm. However, with her other arm, she threw one of her bolas at the earthbender’s legs, sending her sprawling on the ground.

The other guard cried out for help loudly as he kept sending bursts of sharp rocks at the attackers. Lieutenant advanced, deflecting the missiles, but he could only walk slowly while doing that. Unfortunately for the earthbender, he was outnumbered, and Tozan used the opening created by his commander to bodily slam into the guard. That particular fight was over by then. But the Equalists’ time was running out more and more. They had to hurry now. Their best chance of getting out of there was grabbing the metal and escaping before the guards could converge on their position. The longer they spent there, the more complicated a getaway would become.

As it turned out, there was only one door there – a thick, secure metal one located right at the bottom of the stairs. They had no key, and trying to pick the lock would take too long. So they used their last-ditch solution. Everyone ran back to the corridor, on lookout for guards, while Puja attached an explosive to the door and ran out herself. An explosion followed shortly after, and the Equalists stormed into a small room through the shattered door. It only contained a small table with a thick metal case on it.  

“No time to pick the lock,” the security expert said. “We need to get this thing away from here and open it later. Let’s move!”

The Equalists ran again. Fatigue was setting in after a period of intense activity, but they couldn’t let it stop them. Going back the way they came in wasn’t an option. They could hear guards there and they’d be swarmed. Fortunately, they had come prepared. A generous bribe had resulted in a minor clerk leaving a small door to the left of the main entrance unlocked. It was just close enough for the Equalists to make a quick getaway through. There were two guards, of course, but they were taken by surprise when the intruders burst through the door and taken down quickly. The Equalists vaulted over the fence, the case with the metal thrown above it by Tozan.

Everything seemed to be going well. They had entered quickly and left quickly, leaving the security flailing about. However, all was not well, and Lieutenant knew it. Surprise or no, there had to be some pursuit, and the fact that there wasn’t boded ill.

“What are they playing at?” Iqualuq asked as they all ran down a side-street. Her arm hung limply at her side; the guard’s attack had done more damage than it had initially appeared. “I know the schematics and metal were kept quiet from the Council, but we did break in. They could still chase us and call the police.”

The answer came quickly enough. Two hands made of rock came at them from the dark. One of them was aimed at Lieutenant, but he was quick enough to spot dodge it. The other grabbed Puja’s ankle, pulling her to the ground. She struggled, but Tozan came to her aid, smashing the hand with the metal case he’d taken from the embassy.

“Damn! Dai Li!” Lieutenant swore. “Everyone, _move_!”

* * *

 

They did not need to be told twice. They barrelled down another side-street in the maze of buildings towards the river – which was their destination, as they had an escape boat prepared. The plan was to follow the river to the coast and disappear in the city’s sewers. The opulence of the government district eventually gave way to the transience and poverty of the riverside. However, the Dai Li were persistent. Lights went on and people shouted as they kept harrying the escaping Equalists from the shadows. It was obvious they wouldn’t be able to get away. Lieutenant ducked behind a ramshackle house and motioned the others to follow him into the temporary cover.

“Blasted Dai Li. Iqualuq, give me some of your bolas. Then run. I’ll handle them and get back myself,” he said. The thief looked at him in shock, but did not question her orders. She hastily handed Lieutenant a few of her bolas before joining the others in their flight.

Lieutenant gnashed his teeth as he stepped out of the cover and immediately had to duck sideways to avoid two stone hands. It was risky, he knew. If he was captured, it would compromise the movement. But at this point he could either risk capture himself, or end up getting the entire crew captured, which would be far worse. Those schematics and metal sample were too important. Without Hiroshi’s inventions, the revolution would go nowhere.

The soldier peered into the gloom. He was hardly dressed for combat – he did put on some armour under the overalls, but they were hardly suitable for such an engagement. But an Equalist did what he had to. Now that he was no longer running, he quickly spotted the Dai Li agents, clinging to the walls of the building to the left and to the right. Some sort of earthbending trick allowed them to do it, he remembered. Staying on the ground would make him a sitting turtle-duck as they shot rocks at him. They would have a much easier time getting away once the police arrived, as well.

Thinking quickly, he ran towards the opposite building. He leaped as the rock-hands once more flew towards him, grabbing the fire escape ladder and frantically climbing up. The buildings were only one storey high, so he hoped fervently that he could get up there while the angle of the corner prevented the Dai Li from shooting. He was almost to the top when a rock-hand grabbed his leg. He managed to get it off with a desperate swing of his leg against the wall, before heaving himself up onto the roof. He ducked behind a chimney, produced his kali sticks and waited.

As he had planned, the Dai Li lost the advantage of height. There was no taller building nearby, so they could no longer rain missiles on him from above. They both leapt up the roof he was on, and Lieutenant had been waiting for it. One of Iqualuq’s bolas flew from his hand, wrapping itself around the legs of a Dai Li agent. He screamed in surprise and toppled off the roof. This would not stop him, obviously – he would earthbend himself up there in short order. But it gave Lieutenant an opening he needed to deal with the second one. He leapt out of cover and charged. The Dai Li agent punched twice, sending two pieces of the flat roof at Lieutenant. Evidently, collateral damage was still a concern. The rocks flew hard and fast – Dai Li were trained well in using more subtle and precise earthbending techniques than most. After Lieutenant dodged those missiles, his opponent threw caution to the wind and simply raised a piece of the roof under his feet, trying to knock him over. With a desperate leap, Lieutenant vaulted over the rising block of earth and descended upon the agent. The only thing that saved him from being struck and possibly knocked off the roof was the return of his partner. Rising above the roof after launching himself with an earth pillar, the man sent his rock-hand at Lieutenant. The Equalist was struck in the chest and fell backwards. He got up quickly, but he was on the defensive now. He weaved and dodged around another barrage of rock missiles, before ducking behind a chimney again. But he couldn’t hide; he had to keep them occupied and take them out before they followed the others.

The Dai Li agents had evidently seen through his ploy, as one of them turned around and jumped off the roof. Without thinking, Lieutenant dashed from his cover – which the other agent had actually begun to collapse over him – and rushed the man as he descended, clinging to the wall with earthbending. He threw himself over the roof as well, well aware of the possibility that he’d break his neck. As he fell down, he grabbed the Dai Li agent and forcibly pulled him off the wall. They were halfway down when he accomplished it, and tumbled to the ground in a heap. The Lieutenant did not waste the opportunity to put a few kicks and punches into his enemy, so when he got up, the Dai Li agent lay senseless on the ground. The other one, however, had regained the upper ground.

It soon proved irrelevant, however, as police sirens blared in the distance – increasingly small distance. The Dai Li agent earthbent a pillar of rock to launch his unconscious comrade into the air, grabbed him and disappeared into the darkness. Lieutenant didn’t stop to question this turn of events and concentrated on getting away himself before the police arrived. The Equalists had anticipated that they might become separated, so there was more than one boat waiting on the riverbank. He ran as far as he could, despite his bruises. If he managed to get out and reach an Equalist safehouse, the mission would be a success. The political fallout would be tremendous, but it was Amon and Hiroshi’s job to handle.


	11. The Response

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here, we zoom away from the characters we've known so far to show the ripples their actions have made in Republic City. Tensions are growing and events will soon escalate beyond the control of most people.

A motorboat piloted by an Air Acolyte brought Councilman Tenzin of Republic City home. Tenzin stepped onto the pier after the acolyte had tethered the boat and made his way up the path towards his home. Council meetings were always tiring affairs for him, but that last one was worse than usual.

He passed by some other acolytes as he headed home. Normally he made a habit of greeting them, and conversing briefly with some of them, but not today. Today he only wanted to sit down and have some tea with his wife. He found her in the living room. She seems to have anticipated it, as she was already seated at the table with a kettle and two teacups.

“I’d just finished putting Meelo to sleep,” she said. It wasn’t an easy task. Their youngest child was energetic, to put it mildly. “Welcome home, dear. That meeting took a while, to be sure.”

“That it did,” he responded, pouring some tea into their cups. He felt his neck muscles relax. “Long, and querulous. Have you heard about what happened?”

“Oh, yes. Someone broke into the Earth Kingdom embassy,” Pema said after a moment’s consideration. “The acolytes have been talking about it. But no one seems to know much about it. What was stolen?”

Tenzin sighed. “That’s just the thing, Pema. We don’t know. The embassy says they’re still doing an inventory to see what is missing. The Earth Queen was livid when she called, but she also adamantly refused to actually say what they might have lost.”

“So the burglars got away without stealing anything?” Pema paused. “Or... what they stole was something the Earth Kingdom doesn’t want us to know was there in the first place.”

“Exactly so, dear,” Tenzin said in a weary voice. Despite her lack of interest in politics, such things rarely escaped his wife. Sometimes he thought she’d make a better Councillor than he did. “Which concerns me. What did they have there? And why did they want to hide it?”

“If they don’t tell you, they won't get any help from the police. Sounds like they'll only have themselves to blame, then,” Pema pointed out.

“I suppose so. It seems the thieves hit the embassy with speed and efficiency, then dodged vanished. That’s where it gets complicated again. It's clear there was some pursuit, but the embassy denies it. People saw two earthbenders fight a man armed with two blunt batons, but the officials claim they have no idea who they were. We suspect Dai Li agents, however. Who are also not supposed to be here in Republic City at all.”

“Sounds like those burglars caused a lot more problems to the embassy than just stealing something from them. But... the embassy’s problems don't need to be your problems, do they? Sounds like they’re sparing Republic City some work by hiding things.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Teznin said thoughtfully. “If not for those strange facts, we'd have a diplomatic incident on our hands.  As it stands... we still might have one, but the Earth Queen can’t put all the blame on us. We still need to find out who did this, though.”

“Wasn’t it the Triads?”

“It may have been... but they used no bending. None of the guards saw them use any, and there are no marks. No scorch marks, no damaged walls, no water. According to the reports, they used batons, hand-to-hand techniques, bolas and knives. Even explosives to get through one door. But no bending.”

Pema frowned. “That’s strange. Maybe they just sent non-bending members, but... that’d be a lot of trouble for no purpose, wouldn’t it?”

“Lin said the purpose may have been to obscure which triad it was... only the Triple Threats use more than one bending art.”

“That makes sense,” Pema said with a nod.

“It does. But... I think it may have been someone else. The Equalists.”

There was a long silence.

“You mean... the non-bending vigilante group? Why would they rob the Earth Kingdom embassy?”

“I don’t know. But the triads aren’t known for employing non-bending combat specialists. They don’t approve of non-benders fighting, in general. It makes it easier to push them around.”

“What did the others say?” Pema asked, suspecting that they’d reached the source of the contention in the Council.

“No one else agreed,” Tenzin responded ruefully. “Councillor Kyung-Ok found it ridiculous. She said the Equalists are just rabble-rousers and would never dare an attack this risky. She insisted it must have been one of the triads, who simply chose not to use bending. Or simply didn’t leave any visible signs of it. Councillor Somchai was of course the one most insistent that we get to the bottom of this as quickly as we can. He claimed the triads must have tried to pin it on the Equalists - suggesting that we're too lenient on them. Councillor Anik only pointed out that they had not used their typical tools like chi-blocking or illegal weaponry.

“What about Tarrlok?”

“He was uncharacteristically quiet, at first. He’d always been contemptuous of the Equalists, but never took a direct stance on them. He always takes some time before he takes a stance on anything, mind you. Then he agreed with the rest.” Tenzin sighed. “He said that the Equalists do not deserve the attention I insist we should give them. According to him, they would not have the resources, skills or daring to actually break into an embassy.”

“But you don’t believe it,” Pema observed matter-of-factly.

“It would be... easy to believe it. But no. I do not. I think the Equalists are a greater threat than most realize. It’s not about what they can do, but about what they represent. If a group of non-benders believe they need to take justice into their own hands... I do not like what it says about this nation.

Pema sighed.

“It is true that you keep hearing more and more about them. Even here, on Air Temple Island. They don’t like us Air Acolytes much. They claim we’re willingly subservient to benders just because they’re benders. That it’s humiliating and demeaning. Who are they to judge our life choices?” Pema huffed. “They just want to blame all the problems in their lives on not being benders. As if it were that simple.”

“The Equalists are radicals,” Tenzin agreed. “Their message is not going to lead to anything good. I just wish the rest of the Council would see it. Instead, they don’t seem to treat them seriously at all. I knew that banning chi-blocking and electro-weapons would result in increased tensions. I fear that if the Council does take them seriously, it will just result in more restrictions.”

Pema shook her head. “You do your best to stop them, don’t you? Don’t blame yourself for the actions of obstructive bureaucrats and angry troublemakers.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple. This can’t be what my father wanted. His wish was to create a harmonious society, free of the wounds of the war, where everyone could live in peace. Different people contributing different things to the new society. But something must have gone wrong. The Equalists may be extremists, but such a movement could only have arisen out of a deep imbalance in our society. And I fear it will get worse.”

* * *

 

Councillor Tarrlok couldn’t help but smile as he was driven to his personal apartments after the Council session was over. Playing the rest of the republic’s governing body like a fiddle seemed to be getting easier. Most of the Council were bureaucrats, put there by their nations to get them out of the way, by means of a cushy retirement. Teznin was dedicated, but he was also completely out of his element in the Council. In short, no one but Tarrlok who was willing and able to play the political game.

Tarrlok chuckled. The look of dismay on Tenzin’s face as his concerns were brushed aside had been something to behold. Katara may have been out of his reach, but at least he could enjoy humiliating her son.

He closed his eyes as he leaned back in the car seat. Years later, he could still see it. His mother, lying in a pile of blood-soaked snow. Katara standing over her. Aluki’s last act had been to protect her son. No, not her son. The last scion of her family, and the last practitioner of the forbidden techniques. Her plan worked, and the knowledge of simultaneous bloodbending survived. The last person who knew it now regularly sat in front of Katara’s son. 

As he returned to his apartments, Tarrlok reflected that he did have to give Tenzin some credit. He did recognize the Equalists as a true problem, rather than a group of inconsequential troublemakers. Unlike the other Councillors, Tarrlok agreed. Unfortunately for Tenzin, it was much more convenient for him to pretend he did not.

Still, the Equalist issue was growing somewhat more pressing. Stealing from the Earth Kingdom embassy was bold. They also took something the Earth Queen wanted to keep secret. Tarrlok didn’t feel comfortable passively observing anymore. He needed to make some gentle nudges that would push the situation in a desirable direction.

He got up from his desk and walked up to a seemingly unremarkable gramophone. Pressing a hidden latch on its side caused a drawer to slide out, with a small phone in it. He dialled a number.

“Yes,” he said into the receiver a few moments later. “Arrange a meeting. Something important just came up.”

Several hours later, Tarrlok waited in a small side-room of his house. The person he waited for turned out to be a portly man with bushy, receding hair. The councillor glared at him.

“I ask to arrange a meeting, and this is what I get? I work through intermediaries, not cronies.”

“It’s... not my fault, Councillor,” the policeman said, clearly nervous. “But my... the people who sent me are rather cautious right now.”

Tarrlok leaned back in his chair. He did not make any indication for the policeman to sit.

“Really, now. What caused them to suddenly start exhibiting such behaviour?”

His visitor loosened his collar.

“It’s... well, the Equalists. People say that they must have broken into that embassy. And if they can do that, well, then they might be even more dangerous than we thought.”

So his business partners did consider the group a real problem. That made things harder and easier at the same time. He leaned forward, stapling his fingers.

“Even more dangerous? I didn’t realize they’d managed to put some fear in the triads. Did something happen I’m unaware of?”

“Well... something did. The Agni Kais, they tried to pull an operation a few months ago. I was there, except, uh... on the other side. Managed to slow down my unit, but that just meant the Equalists got there first. They chi-blocked all the Agni Kais who were found later, tied up. Except one, who just vanished into thin air. Got everyone pretty spooked.”

“I think I’ve heard something. I thought the Agni Kais had made an example of that man, for getting showed up by non-benders.”

“No, that’s not it. I mean, maybe they’d have done that, but... they didn’t. Akira was just... nowhere to be found. That made everyone concerned.”

Tarrlok shrugged. It was curious, and maybe unsettling, but his “friends” weren't supposed to think about this sort of thing. They were supposed to leave the thinking to him, by and large.

“I still can’t believe they’re scared of non-benders,” he said incredulously. “The Equalists make a big mess, but that’s all they can do.”

The unfortunate messenger raised his hands.

“I- I don’t know. I don’t think about and I don’t ask. It’s none of my business. I just do what I’m told.”

Oh, spirits. They didn’t even have the common decency to send an actual member. Just some police grunt they’d blackmailed somehow.

“I’m sure you do. So listen closely. If the Equalists are starting to get bolder and more dangerous, they need to be dealt with, quickly. If they start attacking high-ranking triad members, they might do some damage. And I’d rather not lose valuable... friends, and the money and favours they owe me.”

The policeman nodded, grimacing. He hated every minute of this.

“They need to step up. Put the fear back in them by a pre-emptive strike. And I know just the targets. Hiroshi Sato. And his daughter.”

“But... there’s no proof-” the man was cut off by an angry glare from Tarrlok.

“Do not interrupt me, fool. Hiroshi is behind the Equalists. He’s just too good at hiding evidence for this city’s excuse of a police force to find it. And even if he’s not an Equalist, he’s still a rabble-rouser that the non-benders look up to. Attacking him and his daughter will remind them who’s in charge. We’ll do it the usual way. They make the strike and I will make sure the investigation goes nowhere and put the correct spin on it. I’ll say that Hiroshi has himself to blame. That a man who tries to uproot our society has no right to expect protection from it.”

The mole nodded, with a painful grimace.

“Now, go.”

After the man left, another person entered, from a small door that was almost invisible, having been covered in the same wallpaper as the wall. The person was a tall man, bald and with deep down skin. He was dressed in a suit that almost resembled that of a police officer.

“Follow him,” he said. “Make sure he reaches those who sent him and relays my message. Pay attention to what they say. Then, once he leaves, kill him. I think my friends do not take our relationship with due respect, and could use a reminder about why it’s unwise.”

The man nodded and turned to leave, but Tarrlok stopped him with a raised hand.

“One more thing. Do you know this man? Is he a bender?”

“He is,” the hitman responded in a quiet, emotionless voice. “An earthbender. Not a very good one.”

So at least he had something that justified his place in the police force, and as the triads’ inside man. Sending a useless non-bender would have been an insult. It also gave Tarrlok another opportunity.

“Perfect. Don’t use bending on him, then. Retrieve one of the confiscated shock-gloves, turn the power up to the highest setting and electrocute him until he dies.”

The assassin nodded and departed quickly. He would need to hurry in order to retrieve the glove and still catch up with the triads’ messenger.

* * *

 

“So? What did he say?”

The assassin allowed himself a small smile. He had managed to get near the policeman just as he reached his meeting point with those who kept their thumb on him. The voices were coming from around the corner of a large, cheap apartment building. He needed to get closer, but his way was obstructed by a tall chain-link fence. He lightly touched the chain, and metalbent it out of his way. Then he crept up to the corner of the building and peered around it. His quarry was standing in a small space between overflowing dumpsters. He was confronted by an intimidating, broad-shouldered Water Tribe woman.

“H-he was angry that you’d sent me. He said that the Equalists are becoming a problem, but that means you need to do a- a pre-emptive strike.” He swallowed. Even from a distance, his fear was palpable. “Hiroshi Sato and his daughter. He said that attacking them will remind non-benders who’s in charge, and he’ll make sure it can’t be tracked back to you. L-like usual.”

The woman swore quietly.

“The nerve of that guy... but, sure. We’ll do it his way, if he promises us his support. And I suppose that means you’re useless for us in this matter.”

“Does that mean-” feverish hope filled his voice.

“Oh, shut up. We’ll assign other tasks to you. Your debt will not be paid for a long time. A man with your spine should not have your expensive habits.”

The man walked away  as the woman entered a trap door between the dumpsters. The hitman waited for her to vanish before following the policeman. The streets were empty, which was both an advantage and an obstacle. He would be noticed by his quarry if he wasn’t careful, but he would also get an easier opportunity to kill him.

They passed by a trio of people who wore obvious signs of triad membership. In this part of town, they did not hide it, and people got out of their way. They did not harass he assassin’s quarry. It was clear they knew him to be their superiors’ pawn. But they would not extend the same leniency towards the hitman, so he gave them a wide berth. They laughed as he passed by on the other side of the street, believing him to be just another cowed and scared citizen. Little did they know he could kill them all before they knew what hit them.

His patience paid off when the man left the industrial district into a small grove of trees. It appeared he was taking a shortcut. The assassin had predicted the man's route and now waited among the trees.

He struck in silence, leaping out from behind an overgrown bush and tackling his victim. He could use no bending for this murder, so he had to be quick and efficient. But his assessment of the man had been accurate, and he was an easy mark even without bending. A rag stuffed into his mouth stifled his scream, and a glove-clad hand clutched his chest, delivering a lethal dose of electricity. The air crackled and filled with a foul smell.

Once the man was dead, his killer lifted his body off the ground and threw it under the bushes. It did look as though someone had tried to hide it, but the body would be found easily enough come morning. Bearing the obvious marks of being killed by a shock-glove. His employer would be satisfied.

 


	12. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Predictably enough, we see the immediate payoff of the plots and schemes conducted last chapter. A certain someone has his own ways of scheming, however, and seems to be one step ahead of Tarrlok... and his allies, for that matter.

“I’m telling you all, it was those Equalists who did it!”

This heated argument was taking place in a small Water Tribe bar, not far from the city centre. The customers looked up at the man who had just uttered this proclamation. He was a bald youth, powerfully built, with light brown skin and tattoos running up his arms.

“Give it a rest, Bayani.” The owner’s voice was weary. It was clearly not the first time something like that happened. “You’ve been ranting about them for months now. Isn’t it about time you picked another subject?”

The young man bristled.

“Do you think I’m joking? They found a dead police officer. He’d been electrocuted.”

“Since when do you care about police officers?” asked an elderly woman, between scoops of her soup. “Not long ago you were going on about how they’re all out to get us.”

“This is bigger than the police’s power play,” Bayani ranted. “The Equalists are out to get us all. All benders. And they’ve started killing.”

“Aw, that’s nonsense.” Another customer had joined in. “Why would they kill some random police grunt?”

“Because he was an earthbender! The Equalists go on about how benders oppress them and dominate the police. They must have decided to start taking action. This will only get worse.”

“I knew that guy,” said another customer. “He was in trouble with the Triple Threats. He’d racked up a lot of debt trying to court a girl that was out of his league.”

“See? They must’ve done him in, then. Who said it was a shock-weapon? Everyone knows some triad members can generate lightning.”

More customers joined the argument at that point.

“And what, they’d send one of those at some debtor? Come on. The Equalists did it. They killed a crooked beat cop because they’re not bold enough to come at a real one.”

Bayani grinned at the support and was about to launch another tirade, a sudden question cut through the debate.

“Who are the Equalists?”

Everyone turned to look at the person who had asked that question. It was a tall Water Tribe man of strong, if wiry build, with black combed-back hair. His rough, angular face betrayed some hard living.

“You must be new here,” the owner of the bar remarked.

“I am. I just got here from the north. I lived in a very small community, so I didn’t hear about any... Equalists when I decided to come down here. Who are they?”

“Malcontents who claim that there’s some sort of bender oppression going on,” Bayani responded in a passionate tone. “They dispense vigilante justice and it’s a matter of time before they turn against all benders.”

“Matter of time, you say. But now they’re actually putting the boot in the triads,” said the customer who had defended the Equalists earlier. “They’ve never hurt a bender who didn’t have it coming. Why would they start now?”

“You ask me, they’re just another gang. Just one that doesn’t use bending,” said a young woman sitting over a bottle of wine.

“Well, I’m not a bender, so I don’t have to worry,” the newcomer said with an awkward smile. Bayani glared at him.

“Sooner or later, every non-bender in this city will have to choose which side they’re on,” he said. Then he was interrupted by the owner, who slammed his hand on the counter.

“That’s enough! I don’t want any trouble here, so pipe down. You know talking about politics while eating will only give you indigestion, anyway.”

The customers chuckled as they returned to their food and drink. Bayani fumed, angry at being put down this way. The newcomer ate hurriedly and left. He seemed embarrassed to have caused such a stir. 

* * *

 

The crime scene was surrounded with police tape. A pale-skinned short policewoman with short greyish hair and round features still stood there to keep gawkers away. The body had been taken away hours before, however. So now she just loitered, bored and useless. Even most of the curious citizens had left, since there was nothing left to see there at that point.

There was someone who approached, though. A lone man, the same one who had just left the Water Tribe bar. He wandered over to the tape, looking around with confusion. It appeared as though he wasn’t sure what to make of this situation.

“Stay clear of the tape, citizen,” the policewoman said, in a bored voice. At least having to warn away a passer-by broke the monotony. “It’s a crime scene.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said politely. “I’m new here. Just arrived from the Northern Water Tribe. I’d heard someone was killed.”

The officer nodded.

“That is correct.”

The man looked around.

“But the body isn’t here. So why does this area still need to be guarded... I’m sorry. I just don’t know much about how it works in the city.”  His tone was apologetic. The policewoman sighed. She couldn’t muster the effort to be official and tell the man off.

“They want to show that we’re doing something and relegating two non-bending grunts to waste their time standing over an empty patch of grass doesn’t inconvenience anyone important.”

“I’m sorry. It’s good to see you’re doing your job all the same,” the stranger said earnestly. The woman snorted.

“Damn right, I am. At least someone appreciates it.”

“Not everyone does?”

“I wish.” She sighed and forced herself to put on at least an appearance of formality. “I’m afraid I can’t talk too much, or further comment on what happened here.”

“Oh, I understand,” the stranger said with a pleasant smile. “But if you want to relax after this is over, why don’t I buy you a drink in that place over there? You look like you could need one, and I could use someone to tell me how things work here.”

The policewoman studied the man carefully. That was an unusual way to ask someone out, but... he wasn’t too bad-looking – tall, broad-shouldered, with chiselled, striking featured. He had a feeling of keen earnestness about him, and there was something deep in his voice. Why not?

“Sure. It’s been a while since anyone offered me that. I’ll find you there. What name should I ask for?”

“I’m Noatak. See you there, officer.”

* * *

 

The establishment Noatak had invited the policewoman to was a lively club in Fire Nation decorations. The place was quite crowded, with plenty of customers at the tables, the counter and the dance floor.

Noatak’s companion for the evening was mostly interested in just sitting back and talking, it seemed. And drinks, of course. As it turned out, her name was Ratree, and she’d been on the force for years.

“So why were you guarding a crime scene no one cared about?” Noatak asked with surprise.

“Because I’m a non-bender,” she explained sourly. “That’s just how it works in this city. Surprised it doesn’t in the Northern Water Tribe.”

“I don’t think it does. Or maybe I just never paid attention?”

“I think a lot of people sort of... take it for granted. Maybe it’s more visible in Republic City, I don’t know. I mean, benders have been around forever, right?”

Noatak nodded.

“They have. And that policeman they killed... he was a bender too?”

“Yeah. He’s got half the experience I have, but made it higher. Go figure.”

“When I heard about it, people said some Equalists did it. Because he was a bender.”

Ratree snorted. She’d been drinking for a while, but showed little to no signs of it.

“That’s rubbish. Why would they do that? He was a bender, yeah, but he was also an insignificant fool. If he was a non-bender, he’d never have got the job at all.”

“Couldn’t the Equalists have killed him for that?”

“No, that’s not them. He’s just... it wasn’t his fault things work the way they do.”

“It seems they don’t work the right way, though. If talented non-benders are kept down just because of that.”

Ratree grinned.

“You learn quick, Noatak.”

“So who do you think killed him?” The newcomer asks, waving the barman over for another drink.

“The Triads, probably. They’re criminal gangs on the loose in this city. He had some dealings with them. Must’ve gone sour.”

“An officer had dealings with criminals?” Noatak’s voice was shocked.

“Well, yeah. I guess the higher-ups didn’t care. There’s two kinds of cops in Republic City, see. There’s Lin Beifong’s metalbenders, who get the best pay, best gear and all the good press. And then there’s foot-sloggers like us. We get stuck with all the important work, and no one pays attention to us. Especially if we’re non-benders.”

“They say the dead guy was shocked, though.”

“The Triads have lightning benders. Or they might have stolen a shock glove. Good things, those shock gloves. They don’t need to kill, and they’re the best non-bending weapons I’ve seen.”

“It sounds like you like the Equalists,” Noatak ventured.

“I don’t!” Ratree declared, more defensively than she’d intended. “I don’t... like them. They’re vigilantes. I don’t think they killed that policeman, but what they’re doing is still outside the law. I just... they’re doing what _we_ should be doing. If the police did their job, non-benders wouldn’t be angry enough to form a group like that.”

“What about the triads, then? Should I watch out for them?”

“Oh, yes. Nasty bunch. They’re gangs of bending criminals. Four major ones. One for each element, plus one that uses all of them.”

“Just benders?”

“Well, they have non-benders too. They join them so they don’t need to fear from them, see. But they just do grunt work. They don’t fight, shake people down or anything. Benders run the show.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It is. Used to be worse, I’ve heard. When they were all ruled by Yakone. He was a waterbender and a bloodbender. They said he’d figured out a way to bloodbend without a full moon. Avatar Aang took his bending.”

Noatak twitched imperceptibly, then went on.

“Don’t the authorities do something about them?”

“They do. Just... not enough. It would be easier if they didn’t consider us helpless. I mean, us non-benders.”

“It keeps coming down to this,” Noatak remarked.

“I guess it does. It’s like... hard to explain to someone who hasn’t lived here. But maybe it’s the same everywhere? They just expect us to sit on the sidelines while the good benders take down the bad ones. But we don’t have to do it. The Equalists don’t. I just wish... they didn’t break the law.”

“Seems to me like they just do what they have to,” Noatak said. “I don’t know this city. But if things are as you say they are...”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Ratree said, deep in thought.

* * *

 

As he departed from the bar later that night, Amon couldn’t help but be pleased. His incognito venture was proving to be fruitful. Examining the crime scene in person only reassured him that no Equalists had been responsible for the murder. Killing that policeman would have been utterly useless, but he did worry an overzealous member might have done it. Now he was sure it hadn’t happened.

Meeting a policewoman with poorly-hidden Equalist sympathies was an unexpected good fortune. With luck, his subtle suggestions might cause her to fully support their cause. And an informant in the police would be invaluable.

For now, however, it was clear the triads were trying to target them. He rubbed his face. He couldn’t keep the spirit corruption contained for much longer. He needed to return to his hideout. But an investigation into the triads’ plans was inevitable.

* * *

 

Late that night, a lone figure pushed through a backdoor of a shabby building in the dockside district. It was a man, burdened by two heavy bags of trash. Grumbling and cursing, he managed to throw them into an overflowing dumpster.

“I hate this job...” he muttered. “And where is-”

“I’m here,” said a deep, rumbling voice.

“Oh, it’s... it’s you,” the waiter said. Beside the dumpster said a hunched figure dressed in rags, with a hood over its head. The waiter recognized the voice of a man who had approached him earlier. He offered a lot of money for certain information. He was wearing a collared coat and a wide-brimmed hat, then. “Let’s get to business. If you have the money, I can tell you what I heard.”

The figure reached underneath the rags, producing a wad of banknotes. The waiter swallowed.

“Right. Yeah. I’ll tell you what I heard. This restaurant, see, is just a front for the Red Monsoons. I work here because... you know. I can’t get a job anywhere else, and if you work for the triads, maybe they won’t beat you up as much. Doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

“Get to the point, please.” The man’s voice was calm, but firm.

“Right. Right. Well, the boss people of the Monsoons met with the other triads. Some... friend of theirs wants them to go after someone big. Don’t know who that is, but someone rich and a non-bender. Must be Hiroshi Sato, I guess. Who else could it be?”

“They didn’t specify?”

“No. They must have felt safe, but not that safe.”

“Surprisingly prudent on their part. Do they want to kill that person?”

The waiter considered that.

“I don’t believe so. They said about putting a scare in them and showing them who’s boss. No killing. I think one of them even specified they must not kill anyone.”

“That is interesting.” The shrouded man handed the money to his informant. “Here is your payment. Do not tell anyone else about this conversation. Now, go before anyone spots us.”

The waiter scurried inside quickly. He did not need to be told twice. In fact, he was already making plans about how the money could be used to leave this place for good.

Once he was gone, the other man got up and left briskly as well. He navigated along the twisted maze of back-alleys before reaching a service entrance to the city’s sewers. Once he descended down wet, moss-covered stairs, he tore off the rags, revealing a dark, buttoned-up coat with a hood. His face was visible now. It was covered in black veins running upwards from the neck. They crept all over it like an infestation.

Amon put on his mask and pulled his hood over his head. At least gathering information from the waiter had not required him to make his face presentable. He considered what he had learned. The triads were planning to attack Hiroshi. To scare him, apparently. What were they expecting? It would have the exact opposite effect. It would galvanize him, the Equalists and other non-bendes of the city. Give them a new injustice to rally behind. In fact, Amon couldn’t ask for a more useful favour out of them if he tried.

If all the four triads were forming such a plan, then someone was directing them. Someone who knew what it would lead to, and approved. The list of such people was narrow. In fact, it consisted of only one person, as far as Amon was concerned. Time would tell if his suspicion was true.

‘Why do you play right into my hands, brother?’ he thought. ‘Do you think you stand to gain from stoking the fires of our revolution? How little you know.’

* * *

 

The Sato estate rose above the suburbs of Republic City. It was located on top of a large hill, and composed of several interconnected buildings. Apart from the living space for its owner and his daughter, it hosted workshops, garages, a racing track and a private swimming pool. At night, it was quiet, save for the pacing of the security guards Hiroshi paid to protect it.

Several satomobiles cut through the night on the way to the estate. They were packed with members of all four triads. It was an uneasy cooperation, to be sure. But they all agreed that intimidating Hiroshi Sato served all their interests. Nonetheless, each triad had their own car. Tensions ran high enough without packing members of rival triads into the same vehicle.

There were four members of each triad – the Triple Threats, the Agni Kais, the Terra Triad and the Red Monsoons. The Triple threats were led by Shady Shin, a waterbender. Apart from him, the mixe-element group consisted of two firebenders and an earthbender. The Agni Kai crew was directed by Min-Ho, a firebender widely known for making up with fire for a lack of brains. The leader of the Terra crew was Ngô Thi Ngoc, a giant of a woman who was exactly as dangerous as she looked. Finally, the Red Monsoons were ordered around by Shila, a woman whose near-psychotic ruthlessness scared even the triads.

The cars did not slow down as they approached the Sato mansion in the suburbs. Those belonging to the Terra Triad and the Triple Threats rode in the front. As they neared the tall, iron fence, the doors of both cars opened. The earthbenders sitting inside heaved with effort and created a massive earthen ramp. Driving at top speed, the cars used it to soar over the fence, landing in the garden before the bodyguards patrolling the grounds could react.

“Police! Call the police! Attack!”

The gangers jumped out of the cars and immediately engaged the approaching security. Hiroshi Sato employed a number of them to guard his mansion. Most of them were benders, but there were some non-benders as well. They had no Equalist ties – Hiroshi had hired a regular security firm. Now they were all bearing down on the attackers, while some stayed behind and tried to call the police.

The triad members spread out wide around the cars, greeting the security with concentrated bending attacks. The Triple Threads led the point of their charge. Shady Shin bent water from a large tank contained in his car’s trunk. He directed it onto the incoming enemies and turned it into scalding steam. The ability to do so quickly was his calling card among the triads. As the guards stumbled back out of the mist, the rest of the Triple threats moved in to strike. Their earthbender thrust his hands into the ground, creating cracks under their feet. The pair of firebenders spun around in sync, sending twin arcs of fire towards them.

Around them, chaos was unfolding. Some guards were toppled under a massive rock wall dropped on them by the Terra Triad. Others still were pinned down by a shower of ice shards sent by the Red Monsoons. Finally, a group of singed security workers were desperately fleeing a massive pillar of flame controlled by the Agni Kais.

“Let’s move!” Shila shouted. The Triads advanced. The guards had realized how thoroughly outmatched they were. Most of them were routed, hoping desperately for the police to arrive. But the police were nowhere in sight. The gangers had a clear way towards the mansion itself. The eartbenders opted not to take the direct route, instead catapulting themselves right in front of the door. The two guards standing in front of it were too terrified to even put up a fight, at that point.

The leaders of the four triads broke down the door in unison and strode in nonchalantly. The owner of the house stood in the middle of the entrance hall, defiantly. As if daring them to strike him down.

“See, Mr. Sato? All your money could not stop us,” Shady Shin said, casually. As he spoke, the earthbenders casually knocked over a part of the front wall of the mansion.

“Your guards are scattered like lizard crows,” Ngoc said contemptuously. She then punched a hole in the floor, sending cracks far and wide.

“You forgot your place, Sato. Overstepped your bounds,” Shila snarled. Hiroshi was still silent, staring right into their eyes.

Min-Ho said nothing. Instead, he occupied himself with setting fire to the entire carpeting in the hall. Hiroshi Sato likewise remained still and silent. He just looked on his tormentors with deep disdain and contempt.

“The police... well, they’ll get here eventually, won’t they?” Shin asked. “They seem slow, though. And what reason would they have to hurry? You don’t exactly endear yourself to the authorities. Stirring up trouble all the time.”

“Where’s your daughter? Hiding somewhere?” Ngoc asked. “Has more sense than her dad, it seems.”

“Where are your Equalists? You’re all alone, Hiroshi. Won’t you say anything?” Ming-Ho finally asked.

The answer was silence. The earthbenders had finished breaking down the front wall of the manor entirely.

“Thought so,” Shin said. “Remember what happened today. There’s still a lot to wreck in this house. And we might decide to go looking for your daughter next time.”


End file.
